Friction
by Remmak
Summary: When Blair Hodges - a human amputee - visits a drell psychologist to cope with phantom pains, the last thing she expects is to be offered a cure through ritual hypnosis. The last thing Naveed Eldrani expects is for his patient to accept. ME2
1. Friction

**Author's Notes: **Friction is beta'd and edited by waiting4morning. Some chapters include footnotes containing helpful information for the reader such as acronym definitions. This story is rated Teen for mild language, sexual suggestion, and non-graphic violence.

**Friction - Chapter One**

Lighting jumped from cloud to cloud in a gray sky over Port Hanshan. The storm had been building up for hours and by Naveed's estimate, it would soon overtake the industrial spaceport. He stood watching its course silently from a window in his upper-level office, wishing it was the warm rain of Kahje approaching and not the freezing sleet of Noveria. He watched the hypnotic rhythm of his breath on the glass and concentrated on calling forth a more pleasant atmosphere from his past.

_ Sun. Light breaks through the clouds in the distance. Smell of wet earth and exotic flowers. Laughter echoes in the distance. A child. Female. Warm light across the shoulders. Small hands beckon from a hollow tree. A game. Through the portal and into endless green. _

A clap of thunder brought Naveed's consciousness hurtling back to the present; chill winds, icy water, and an empty room. He re-filed his memory and turned away from the scene outside to take a seat at his desk. A quick glance to his console told him it was time to start preparing for his next patient. She would be arriving soon, and he hadn't even reviewed her files yet. His slim fingers brought her info up on the screen, and his dark eyes scanned the profile carefully. Once he finished his review, he picked up a small recorder from his desk and held the active button.

"New archive. Patient name: Blair Hodges," he began, "female human, twenty-six galactic-standard years of age." He paused in his note-taking to scroll down the profile.

"Trauma survivor: starship crash at age nineteen. Father died in the accident; she sustained severe injuries. Left arm was amputated and replaced with a bionic prosthesis. Patient reports nerve damage to injured shoulder, resulting in desensitization. However, more immediate concerns include nightmares and 'after-shock' syndrome. Patient experiences phantom pain in absent limb, painkillers proven ineffective in the past." Naveed's fine eyeridges crinkled in hesitation before he added a final note. "Patient wishes to pursue alternative treatment."

The recorder's orange light blinked out as he removed his thumb. With a thoughtful sigh, he leaned back into his chair and stared through the skylight at the roiling clouds above. He considered the trauma patients he'd dealt with in the past, and how none of them had suffered the bodily repercussions presented by his newest case. Most bionic candidates needed months of physical therapy to adapt to their cybernetic modifications, and even once that was achieved, they still required a lifetime of maintenance. Lifestyle choices often had to be altered as well, and the changes were usually accompanied by depression. Add in the complications of phantom pain and a lost relative, and he had a very precarious situation to work with.

The drell glanced back to study the face on his console. If her records were right, the accident would have been seven years ago. That was a long time to live with nightmares, waking and otherwise. He straightened in his seat and checked her chart for a list of medications. A handful of predictable painkillers and anti-depressants were present, but it appeared that all had stopped with the exception of a single SSRI prescribed for anxiety. The corners of his segmented mouth turned down in concern as he noted periodic increases in the dosage of the drug. Sixty milligrams a day was the maximum therapeutic dose in humans, and the chart indicated his patient was already on such a regimen. He pinched his brow and pressed the speaker button on the comm device at the edge of his desk.

"Tara, have we received patient records from a Dr. Tunston on Blair Hodges yet?"

"No, sir," a pleasant asari voice replied, "Should I send another request?"

"If they don't come by the end then day then please do," Naveed instructed. "I want to know why she was allowed to discontinue treatment so abruptly."

"Very well, sir. Oh, your patient has just entered the lobby. Should I send her in?"

"No, thank you. I'd like to receive her myself."

He shut off his monitor and placed the recorder back in his desk drawer. Using an interface on the wall, he closed the window panels and skylight overhead. Normally he left them open, believing that Noveria's pristine sky promoted a sense of peace in his patients, but with the day's weather being as it was, it was hardly an appropriate backdrop. With a short pause to straighten his jacket, he activated the door to the lobby and disappeared through it.

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

When he entered the lobby, Naveed found his patient seated on a couch opposite the admissions desk. Her face was turned away from him, displaying a head of short-cropped brown hair. She wore plain clothes in shades of gray and green, with a sturdy pair of boots on her feet. They were small feet, accompanied by small hands. Blair was a petite human.

He picked up a data pad from a cradle mounted on the wall outside his office and strode forward to greet her. "Miss Hodges?"

She looked up at him quickly, and his breath caught in surprise at what he found staring back at him. Twin images of his own face reflected off the copper-colored lenses of a pair of antique aviators. They rested on a slightly-freckled nose over thin, colorless lips. Long bangs framed her narrow face.

"You ready for me?" she piped up.

He smiled and gestured toward his office. "Right this way. Tara, hold my calls please. If those records come in I'd like them forwarded to my console."

Naveed escorted Blair to his office and gave her a moment to look around before taking his customary chair and extending an introduction. "I'm Dr. Naveed Eldrani and I want to thank you for coming, Miss Hodges. Please sit anywhere you like and feel free to simply call me Naveed." He watched her make a slow circle of the room before choosing a white loveseat not far from him. She daintily shuffled one leg over the other and folded her hands in her lap. Her prosthetic arm rested atop her natural one as if to hide it, and he decided to try a small exercise to test his theory.

"I hope you won't mind my asking," he said softly, "but could you please remove your glasses?"

"Oh," the human started self-consciously, "no problem."

She slid them off her face and placed them on the coffee table in front of her. Hazel-green eyes rose to meet his in apology. "Sorry. I know it'd kind of rude to wear dark glasses in public, but I like the way they look."

"That's quite alright. Are they very old?"

"They are, but I still prefer them to all the newer tech with scanners and such. At least when it comes to day-to-day wear. It's hard to improve on a classic."

Naveed leaned forward in his chair. "I noticed how you placed them on the table just now. Are you right-handed, Miss Hodges?"

She glanced at the aviators and back up to him quickly. He could see the spark of intelligence that flashed in her eyes. "Yeah. Does that matter?"

"Not really," he assured her, "I am merely curious as to which of your limbs is your primary. I imagine it must have been difficult to master the cybernetics of an off-hand."

A tiny change in her focus suggested she was suspicious of his answer, but she simply shrugged. "I was taking in-patient PT for a month and out-patient for another five. The therapists told me my progress was normal…only ones who ever get through it quickly are biotics."

Naveed nodded. "Because they already have experience working with nuero-systems that do not exist naturally in your species."

"Yeah…I don't envy them though. Being a biotic comes with its own problems."

"That it does, but it's your problems that are of concern to me, Blair. I've gone over your profile and I understand you experience pain, but you're listed as having quit your prescription for it. Why is that?"

"It didn't work," she replied briskly. "Every time I went back in to see Tunston he'd just try to give me more meds like I was some of kind of pill-popping junkie. I was tired of wasting money and getting nowhere, so I quit him."

"Stopping a regimen that way can be dangerous Blair, especially when you are no longer under supervision."

"I know, but it'd have happened eventually anyway. I was running out of cash. Most of what my father left me went into this." She lifted her prosthesis pointedly.  
Naveed frowned. "How have you been coping all this time?"

"I haven't been. That's why I'm here," she countered. "I'll be at work fixing a shuttle and suddenly drop my tools because I get a cramp. Sometimes I'll wake up at 2am to stabbing pain, but when I look down to see what's causing it, my flesh and blood isn't there. Just metal and plastic and nothing to band-aid."

"Your chart says you wanted to try alternative treatments. Have you sought that kind of help before?"

"I've done acupuncture and EPT, but I had to quit the latter because I kept shocking people."

The drell's eyeridges rose curiously. "Static shock you mean?"

"Yes. I've had problems with it ever since I got my prosthesis and brain port chip installed. Even with my anti-static sleeve I seem to carry a lot of charge."

"That must prove difficult in your line of work."

"I just have to be careful is all. The amount of energy I give off is negligible in equipment the size of the shuttles, but I used to break small-appliances on occasion. Alarm clocks, remotes - things like that. I modified my bionic to include a grounding device, so it's not such a big deal anymore."

"As long as you remember to use it," Naveed added with a smile.

"And I do. I feel the shocks myself, and trust me, you get tired of them when they occur upwards of a dozen times a day."

"I can imagine, and I'm glad you have found a solution for it. Now, about these nightmares. How often do they occur?"

"Maybe once or twice a week. Between them and the phantom pain I don't get a lot of sleep."

"What do you see in these dreams, Blair? Flashbacks of your accident?"

"Most of the time, yeah. I hear the ship klaxons going off and my dad yelling something I can't understand. Then I'm knocked off my feet and can't breathe. Something is on top of me, and it won't let me get free. I usually wake up when I start to smell my skin burning."

Naveed's eyes narrowed. "Burning? That wasn't mentioned in your log."

"I have chemical burns on my bad shoulder and across the top of my back." The human raised her hand and tapped the injured areas. "Here and here."

"May I see them?"

She shrugged again and sat up. He traded his chair for her loveseat and observed quietly as she unzipped her top and slid it over her torso. The fabric caught in a bunch under her chin, but despite being tempted to offer assistance, he waited for her to maneuver it off on her own. The shirt finally came free in a cloud of fluffed hair. Blair folded the top and placed it next to her glasses.

The bubbled, discolored scars of her injuries stood out in stark contrast from the rest of her smooth, peach skin, and the interface where her prosthesis met her body was cleanly defined by a plastic surgical band. Only a small portion of her upper body was marked by burns, and they appeared to have healed well, but that didn't stop Naveed from hesitating before touching her gently. To his surprise, the texture of her skin was rough but not rigid. It still dimpled under the pressure from his finger tips, and he could see goose bumps rising from the cold.

"Thank you, you may put your shirt back on now," he said as he withdrew his hand, "I will add this to your notes. Is there anything else like this that I should know about?"

She pulled her shirt back on then shook her head. "I think that's about it, doc."

Naveed retrieved his data pad from his chair and made notations. When he was done, he sat down next to Blair again.

"I'm very pleased you chose to come here today Blair, because I believe that I am in a unique position to help you." He paused a moment and considered. "How much do you know about my people?"

"Not much. You're the first drell I've ever met."

"Ah, then perhaps I should explain. My people believe a very distinct separation of the vessel - your body, and the soul - your heart and mind. As a psychologist, my main role is to assist you in creating a healthy meeting of these two things. Ours is not so much a medical science as a social one. We do not treat disease or simple injury, but entire sapient beings, and I am of the mind that to do that, both the body and soul must be taken into account. Without one or the other, you are incomplete - disconnected. While the connection still exists in you, Blair, it is very disharmonious."

He appeared to have the woman's attention, and since she hadn't interjected yet, he decided to continue.

"Your body and soul are out of synch; your vessel relives memories that your mind knows are long past, and your soul suffers because of this. My people, the drell, relive memories at will, in perfect detail, but can dismiss them at will as well. To avoid reliving a memory, we simply do not think about it. You however, have no control over the memories that haunt your dreams and the phantom pains that plague your body. There is something I would like to try with you to help remedy your situation, but let me be frank in acknowledging that it is unconventional and does not work for all patients."

"What do you want to do?" she asked curiously.

"I'd like to separate your body and soul connection intentionally; that you may form a new one."

She blinked and laughed nervously. "Exactly what does that mean?"

"Have you ever considered hypnotherapy?"

"Hypnotherapy? Are you saying you want to put me under?"

"I want to relive your memories with you, and help you determine what is causing the…friction, for lack of a better word, between your body and soul. If you are still feeling pain from a limb that isn't there and losing sleep to bad dreams, then something in your connection is clearly defective. If the connection cannot be repaired, reestablishing a new one may be required. As an engineer you might compare it to a system reboot."

"That's ridiculous," Blair said. "Computer systems are based on numbers and hard science; there are no rules to navigating 'spiritual connections' or whatever you want to call it."

"You're absolutely correct - there are no rules, and that's why this treatment is unconventional. So, too, it requires a great degree of trust to be present between the parties involved. If you are uncomfortable with this option, then I will not push it any further. I would however, like to discuss reducing your SSRI intake."

"That's a lot more reasonable," Blair agreed. "The only thing I really take it for anymore is flying. I might work on shuttles, but I still freak out when I leave the ground on one."

Naveed wrapped up their session and escorted his patient back to the lobby.

"You can contact me at this number," he said as he clicked at his omni-tool. "Please feel free to call if you have any questions or concerns before your next visit."

"Thanks," the woman said as she put on her aviators.

"I believe this has been a productive session, Miss Hodges. I look forward to seeing you again next week."

* * *

**SSRI** - Selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, a class of anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication


	2. Vessels

**Friction - Chapter Two**

It took a full-body shove for Blair to make it past her door and into her cramped living room. Capsule crates and other luggage from her recent move still lined the walls and made it hard to navigate. Where floor space was available, she had a small droid to worry about. Her assisted living mech had been designated with the charmingly simple name of Una, and more than once Blair had sent the poor thing flying with a misplaced boot. While the accidental collisions rarely resulted in any real harm, Blair always ran damage diagnostics just in case. She'd always loved mechanical things, and her bionic implant had only strengthened her kinship with them.

She maneuvered around the boxes to a kitchen nook in the corner. The bar that divided it from her foyer was cluttered with odd bits of machinery and the empty jewelcases of numerous OSD manuals. Empty food cartons overflowed the trash bin, and a fluorescent tube sputtered overhead. Blair ignored all this and threw her tool belt onto the crowded countertop next to a collection of thin metal discs that might have once been soda cans. Between the frustration of failed engineering experiments and the amps of her bionic hand, things had a way of losing their shape around her.

She unclipped her Noveria Development Corporation id tag and stuck it on her fridge before opening up the aging appliance to search for dinner. Through the fog of cold air she could see she'd have to visit the store soon. Barely a week's worth of meals were left and she'd depleted her caffeine supply down to almost zero. She bit her lip and contemplated saving the remaining soda for an energy boost in the morning, but she was tired now. After eight hours on her feet in the garage and yet another doctor visit she deserved a little reward. When the can opened with a refreshing hiss, Blair realized she hadn't heard the white-noise whir of Una's electrical system. She left her food search for later in favor of finding the only thing on Noveria she considered a friend.

"Una…" she called as she traveled down a narrow hall to her room, "Una?"

The droid was in sleep-mode in a docking cubby next to Blair's bed. As the human approached, the shutter to Una's ocular lens opened.

"Hey, Una," she crooned. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Una retracted her charger from the outlet on the wall and folded it into her metal frame. A lighting grid went up across her body and thrummed with a bright green glow that signified she was at full energy capacity. A series of bleeps filled the air as she rolled forward to greet the woman who was at once her keeper and her charge.

"You're glad I'm home? Me too. In fact, I've got a little job for you if you want it."

The droids lights pulsed.

"The flash-light in the pinky shaft of my arm went out today. Think you can handle that?"

A tool-tipped limb appeared out of a compartment at Una's side. Blair laughed.

"Good woman. I need to take a shower anyway so I'm just gonna take it off and leave it for you to work on while I'm washing, alright? Come with me."

Human and droid returned to the living room where Blair cleared off some space on a coffee table. She turned on the TV and began the slow process of disconnecting her prosthesis from the control interface on her upper arm while Una hummed happily at her feet. When it finally came free from its socket, she placed it on the table's glass surface and finished off the soda she'd been drinking.

"There you go, ma'am," she said to the droid. "All yours."

Una propelled into the air and landed next to her target with a soft clink. Sounds of industry quickly followed. Blair rose from the couch and walked to her bathroom, forgetting about the TV. The soda can she'd deal with later.

She opened her medicine cabinet and withdrew the seal for her arm socket from its resting place next to her anxiety pills. That bionic parts weren't waterproof was one of a handful of "rules" her physical therapists had drilled into her after her operation, and it was the one she hated the most. It made something as simple as hand-washing an awkward chore - and bathing a complete pain.

Blair sighed and turned on the water before removing her clothes. After the first year or two of living with her condition, she'd discovered it was a wise investment to buy them a size larger than she'd normally wear. It made getting them off a lot easier, and easy was a word that had almost lost its meaning to her.

After shimmying out of her undergarments and testing the water, she got into the shower stall. The heat felt good on her sore muscles, and she stood, letting it run over the back of her head for several minutes as she recalled how hard it had been to get her life back after the accident. She was tired of doctors and pills and nerve-tests, but she was even more tired of peoples' stares and questions and hesitant handshakes. The drell doctor she'd seen that afternoon had been right. She was chaffing in her own skin; suffocating under memories she couldn't seem to shed.

Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes and disappeared into the rivulets of water cascading down her face. She fantasized the soap bubbles disappearing down the drain were all her ill-feelings, and that her seven years of bad luck was being carried off by some unseen current. The thoughts made her smile, and she felt strong again by the time she reached to shut off the water.

She flipped her hair over her right shoulder and coiled it with her good hand, wringing out the last bits of moisture before stepping out onto her fluffy green bathmat. As she lifted a foot over the edge of the tub, the stinging sensation of soap flooded into one of her eyes. Her hand snapped to her face to rub it away, while her foot failed to find traction. Panic screamed through her veins, and her good arm flailed wildly as she slipped backwards into the tub. The last thing she saw was blinding white as her head struck something hard on the way down. As light faded, the sound of shattering glass and Una's frantic bleeps were the last noises she heard.

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

Silent stillness was all that greeted Naveed as he entered his apartment. He threw his keycard on a nearby table and gave his eyes time to adjust to the dim interior. It was a spacious and well-appointed loft, but no matter what he did the place always felt lifeless, like a vessel without a host. Even the diffuse light that filtered through his frosted windows felt hollow, and he shivered at the way it painted the edges of his furniture with cold, blue halos. The occasional blink of a power button was the only sign of habitation, and even that felt more akin to the flares of a dying star than a pulse of life.

Guided by faint light from outside, he traded the hostile entryway for his bedroom. The air was more inviting there: warm and dry and scented with rich incense. The sweet odor of it enveloped him in a comforting embrace and relaxed his tense mental state. Ancient drell tapestries lined the chamber's walls, and heavy curtains shielded it from the icy landscape outside. A pile of pillows in shades of sunset crowded his bed, and wrought-metal lanterns stood in the corners. Despite all of this, it was the altar opposite his bed that dominated the room's décor.

It was a solid slab of onyx-colored stone that had been worn smooth by the hands of many skilled artisans. Veins of deep red ran through it, and Naveed always imagined its polished surface to be warm to the touch. He moved near it and ran his hand across the top of it reverently. The ashes of countless offerings collected on his fingertips.

_ Rivulets of smoke rising to the ceiling. A stinging in his eyes. Many voices. One stands out among them. Shrill; devoted. Ethereal shadows dance along the walls. Gold flames crackling. A rough rug under bare feet, unwoven in one ragged corner. Arashu…Arashu…Arashu! _

His body froze as he felt a pair of hands wrap themselves around his waist. Warm breath tickled the nape of his neck and a familiar body pressed against his.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Naveed complained. He took a deep breath to relax his racing heart.

"And I wish you'd get rid that," a feminine voice replied as one of the manicured hands left his hips to gesture at the unlit altar. "It's creepy…"

The drell removed the hands from his body and turned to face an asari with glittering blue eyes. A sheer dress in royal purple hung about her shoulders and a mischievous smile played on her face.

"The mother of my people is 'creepy'?" he asked her with a frown.

"That's a rock; not your goddess, Naveed."

"It is a vessel for the goddess, and as such it deserves to be treated with respect. If you don't like it then don't look at it."

The asari pouted and moved in to brush his firm sculpted lips with her soft round ones. "You seem upset tonight. Bad day at the office?"

Naveed ignored her question for one of this own. "What are you doing here, Kilandra?"

"My shuttle from Port Elais got back early. I thought I'd come by and surprise you. I missed you."

"Why didn't you call?"

"Because then it wouldn't have been a surprise, silly." She took his hands in hers and pulled him towards the kitchen. "Come on, I have just the thing to cheer you up."

Naveed let his unexpected houseguest drag him to the kitchen where she produced several boxes from inside his microwave. The scent of spices he knew by heart began to permeate the air, and he cringed inwardly at an inevitable confrontation.

"See?" the asari bubbled. "I brought all of your favorites."

"That's very generous of you, Kilandra," he said softly, "but I'm afraid I've already eaten."

He watched with discomfort as the woman's lips pursed tightly. It was the same miffed moue she always used when she didn't get her way, and it was quickly followed by an appeal to his other appetites. She placed her hands on his chest and slipped them under the opening of his shirt. Despite himself, a shiver rippled across his finely scaled skin.

"That's alright," Kilandra decided in a husky voice as her thumbs stroked the sides of his neck. "We'll just skip straight to dessert." She moved to kiss him, but he turned away sharply.

"I'm really not in the mood."

The woman shoved him away and scoffed. "In the mood for what, Naveed? Focusing on something other than your job?" She pulled a knife from the stand on his counter and held it across a pale blue wrist. "If I cut myself like one of your patients would it make you pay attention to me?"

Naveed's eyes narrowed angrily, his pulse skipping with concern. His voice was as firm as his expression when he spoke. "I don't like you using my work against me, Kilandra. My patients are sick; they need my help."

"Well, I'm sick, too! Sick of you ignoring me whenever it's convenient. Sick of how you run away when I'm around!" Hot tears formed in her blazing eyes, and she choked out her next words. "Mother called me while I was in Port Elais. She said they found Lyla's body on the Citadel. My sister is dead…"

The drell's anger dissipated at once. Uncomfortable feelings of shame and sadness washed over him. With slow, deliberate movements, he took the hand that held Kilandra's knife and moved it away from her body. He then took her chin with his free hand and kissed her forehead gently. The asari's grip loosened on her makeshift weapon, and she fell into his embrace in defeat. Naveed threw the knife into the sink and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered over her wracking sobs. "I can't help if you won't talk to me. Please, talk to me…"

"I was going to tell you," she explained through upset hiccups, "but then you came home and I saw your mood and I-"

"Shh. It's true - I haven't been around much lately, and you have every reason to be upset. I've been very selfish, but I would never want you to hide your feelings from me for my sake. Especially not about something like this."

"You aren't angry with me?"

He brushed the last trace of tears from her cheek and eyed her with a deep gaze. "Of course not. I love you, Kilandra. I am…appalled with myself that you would need to take such a drastic action to remind me of it." The asari nestled her face in the crook of his arm and sighed. Naveed stroked her cheek warmly. "Do you forgive me?"

Her lips brushed his chest just above his heart. "You know I do."

A strap from her dress slid off her shoulder, and Naveed bent to kiss the newly exposed flesh. He felt Kilandra's heartbeat quicken in response and heard a low moan escape her throat. Her arms curled across his shoulders and the back of his head, begging for more. When he stopped to catch his breath, Naveed hooked his hands around her thighs and lifted her into his arms. The asari wrapped her legs around his waist and allowed him to carry her to the bedroom. As the door shut behind them, the comm device in the kitchen picked up an inbound call. It went to voicemail and a shaky female could barely be heard on the other end.

"Dr. Eldrani? Are you there? It's Blair…"


	3. Vashtee

**Friction - Chapter Three**

"I've always liked that jacket," Kilandra mused from the doorway of Naveed's bathroom.

He turned to her as he adjusted his collar and smiled. "I don't suppose that has anything to do with the fact that you're the one who bought it for me, does it?"

The asari simply grinned behind her coffee cup and watched the drell lean into the sink to wash his hands. "Oh, there was a voicemail on your comm..."

"Already?" Naveed shut off the water and reached for a towel.

"According to the timestamp it came in last night."

The drell stiffened and kneaded the cloth between his hands. He inclined his head and said calmly, "Kilandra, we've talked about this. You can't keep picking up my messages. My patients use that number and they have a right to privacy that I'm responsible for protecting, understand?"

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child! Why are you handing out your private line to patients anyway? If they're having an emergency shouldn't they be calling the clinic?"

"So it was a patient," Naveed surmised with a frown. "Did you save it at least?"

"Yes, but it won't help you. It's completely garbled, like she was on speaker phone or something."

"I'll take it in my office." He folded the towel hurriedly and hung it back on the rack before turning to exit. Kilandra almost spilled her coffee stepping out of his way, but she didn't let it keep her from dogging him all the way back to the living room.

"I didn't hear anything," she defended plaintively. "And even if I had, you know I wouldn't tell anyone!"

Naveed's jacket flaps snapped behind him irritably as he made his way to office. "Not intentionally perhaps, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that when a patient calls, their words are meant for me alone. This is the promise that I have made to them, and by interfering you are not only breaking a sacred trust but making me into a liar as well." He reached his office door and punched a code into the security panel. "Would you like it if I told my patients about your behavior last night?"

"That's not fair - I didn't mean it. I was upset..."

"And you wanted to talk about what was upsetting you," Naveed finished, "as do all of the people who walk through my clinic doors. I'm very sorry about your sister. Kilandra, and I'd like to continue the discussion we started last night, but right now, there is someone else who needs my attention and they may not be able to wait."

"Do you promise to come straight home after work?"

"I promise."

Kilandra gave her usual pout but nodded. "I'll go make you something to take for lunch."

The drell's stiff posture fell away as he watched the woman retreat. She'd been acting so odd lately. Even when the previous night's incident was brushed aside, there was still a strange anxiety there that he'd never seen in her before, and it was beginning to be more than a passing concern for him. The young asari had always been the sort to smother with affection - it was a trait he'd found charming and sympathetic in their early days - but the manipulative behavior she'd been exhibiting recently wasn't at all like her. Normally their disagreements were minor and easily remedied, but lately he'd been reluctant to make any sort of stand for fear that it might set off whatever had gotten into her.

His heart hurt at the thought that their relationship might be nearing its end, especially after Kilandra's revelation about her sister, but something just wasn't working anymore, and all of his attempts to solve the problem were being met with push-pull, erratic resistance.

He stepped through the portal into the privacy of his office and dismissed thoughts of his lover for a more professional air. Whatever was happening with her, he had a more pressing concern to deal with. He pulled the comm device to the edge of his desk and loaded up the saved message. When it began to play he sharpened his acute drell hearing to make out what Kilandra could not.

At first there was only silence, followed by a crackle of static and low, uneven breathing, but the empty air eventually gave way to a hesitant voice he recognized immediately.

"Dr. Eldrani? Are you there? It's Blair…" Her voice cracked and Naveed's sensitive eardrums could hear a faint echo in the background. She was in a small room, with a bare floor.

"I've had an accident…I'm-I'm okay, but, I've changed my mind. About the hypnosis. I…can I come in sooner than next week? Please. Please call me when you can." A long pause. "Bye."

Naveed's throat constricted, and his hand shot out to dial Blair's number. His dark eyes darted in his head and a half-dozen scenarios played through his mind as he waited for the call to connect. When the comm device failed to pick up a soft curse in an old drell dialect escaped his lips. He flew out of the chair to the door and that's when it hit him - an old memory he wished he'd been able to bury with the body it left behind.

_ "I'm tired, Naveed." Waves crash on the rocks below. Two gulls squabble over their leftover lunch. The smell of the sea is intoxicating. "I will take you home, Vashtee." A heavy sigh. Sobbing. "Where is home?" His hand moves to hers. It is cold. "Home is with me."_

_ A rush of bubbles. A white dress in water. _

Naveed's hand missed the door handle, and he collapsed in a heap against it, gasping for air. His huge eyes opened wider than ever and stared into the ceiling lights looking for a silhouette that wasn't there. A pounding against the door throbbed in his skull like the angry surf had so many years ago. The drell rolled onto his side, and Kilandra pushed the door open.

"By the Goddess!" she exclaimed as she crouched next to him and pulled his hands away from his face, "Naveed! Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm f-fine," he managed between breaths. He grabbed one of the blue hands that pawed at him and held it tightly. "Just give me a minute. Please."

The asari stopped fidgeting over him and rested her free hand on his forehead. She stroked its scaled surface comfortingly, letting her nails drag lightly down his neck. Frayed fabric brushed her hand before she could bring it to his face again.

"You ripped your jacket," she mumbled, fingering the split seam in his left shoulder.

Naveed's sense returned, and he attempted to right himself. "The woman…on the voicemail. I need to find her, Kilandra."

"Now? You just passed out! I'm not going to let you drive…"

"Then take me to the transit garage. I need to make sure Blair is alright."

"Blair?" Her face crinkled.

"A new patient," Naveed explained as he finally regained his feet. He rested his hands on his desk and let his head hang between his shoulders until the room stopped spinning. "She works at the NDC garage. I need to go there. Now."

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

Naveed had never visited Port Hanshan's transit garage before, but luckily for him, it was as well labeled as the rest of the station. If it hadn't been, he doubted he would have ever found the tiny office of the head mechanic amidst the sprawling complex of docking bays and shuttle hangars. A pale-plated turian manned the desk there, dressed in the bright blue and orange uniform of an NDC employee. The drell walked up to him hastily and announced himself.

"Excuse me..."

The turian finished clacking out something on his keyboard before glancing up with a leisurely air. "Are you in charge here?" Naveed asked him.

"That's right. Head Mechanic Liliheirax at your service. Call me Li. There something I can help you with?"

"Please, I'm trying to find a young woman-"

"A human?"

"Yes, her name is-"

"Hodges," the mechanic interrupted. He stood and walked around the edge of his desk slowly, sizing up the drell in front of him as he did so. "There's only one woman in my garage."

"Did she make it in to work today? It's important that I speak with her."

Li's blue eyes hammered Naveed's green ones harshly. "You a friend of hers?"

"No, I'm her therapist." The drell withdrew his NDC id and presented it.

The turian glanced at it and relaxed his posture. He rubbed his neck and muttered thoughtfully. "She asked to take some time to see a doctor...I didn't realize she meant a shrink."

Naveed managed to contain his frown. "I take it you don't approve of what I do."

"It's not that. It's just that Hodges has been nothing but solid here. What does she need a shrink for?"

"I'm afraid that's between the two us. May I see her now?"

Li nodded. "Oh sure. She's in docking bay nine working on some ATVs. I'm sorry to give you the hassle, but there've been some odd people around lately and I don't want them getting to my crew."

The turian gestured for Naveed to follow and as the two of them made their way to the garage the drell took the opportunity to learn more about his patient.

"You said Blair is the only woman stationed here?"

"That's right. Came off the boat two months ago and she's still kicking. Most of them don't last a week, but Administrator Qui'in did good with this one. She's tough."

"Do the other mechanics give her much grief?"

The turian gave a rich laugh that echoed down the bare hallway. "They used to…until they found out the hard way that she's a living lighting rod. I guess you must know all about that though, huh?"

Naveed nodded. "I am aware of her condition."

"It's unfortunate," Li mused. "Hodges can fix pretty much any problem I throw at her, but her cybernetics remain a mystery… Just goes to show there are some things we weren't meant to fiddle with."

The drell raised an eyeridge curiously at the comment, but before he could inquire further, his escort stopped at an airlock with "Bay 9" stenciled across it in scuffed blue lettering. Li paused at the door control and turned to Naveed. "I hope you can find a way to help her. She's a hard worker and a good person and her morale's through the roof."

Naveed bowed his head at the weight of faith in the comment. "I am prepared to do everything I can for her. I would not have come out here this morning otherwise."

The mechanic nodded and opened the portal. Cold air made Naveed's skin tighten as he walked forward onto a platform overlooking four ATVs in various states of repair. Fast-paced music heavy with synths blared out of the garage's PA system, and small, wet footprints made tracks between the vehicles. The drell heard Blair before he could see her; the sound of her soft singing was just loud enough to make out on the fringe of his hearing, and following the sound allowed him a glimpse of her NDC uniform behind the third ATV from his left. He saw her jump when the turian reached out and abruptly shut off her radio.

"Hodges!" Li warned from the platform. "What'd I tell you about keeping that trash turned up while you're working on the heavies?"

"That it's dangerous and I'm likely to lose my other arm," her voice remarked sarcastically. The turian turned to Naveed with an exasperated expression that made the latter chuckle.

"We'll finish this discussion later. For now you need to get your butt up here. You have a visitor." He turned to the drell. "I hope she listens to your advice; she sure as hell doesn't listen to mine…"

Blair's brown-haired head peeked out from behind her ATV, and Naveed began making his way down the stairs to meet her. He watched her replace her tools on a workbench and unhook a grounding cable from her bionic arm before turning towards him and making her way through the jacks supporting the vehicles. When she drew close, he saw a handful of tiny cuts that blemished her face. Despite his concern, he stopped respectfully at the edge of her work space and waited for her to close the distance.

"You've got fifteen minutes, then I want you back to work," the mechanic called down to Blair. "Those shuttles have to be ready to head out to Peak 12 in two hours."

The turian then disappeared out the airlock, leaving Blair and Naveed to their privacy.

"I'm afraid I didn't get your message until this morning," the drell told her. "I tried calling, but there was no answer. Are you alright? What happened to your face?"

Blair shrugged and brushed one of her long bangs behind her ear. "I had a slip in the shower last night. When I fell, my knee jutted out and broke the door. I'm okay, though. Una got out all the glass and patched me with some medi-gel." The woman ground a booted toe in the floor and sighed. "I feel stupid for calling you now."

"Please don't. I prefer that you keep me informed of incidents like this. I'm very sorry I wasn't available for your initial call, but I'm glad to see you're alright. You had me very concerned."

She shrugged. "It's okay. I was just a little freaked out after it happened. Next time I'll call back and let you know I'm okay so you don't have to go through the trouble of tracking me down just to check up on me."

"It's no trouble, Blair. Your garage is on my way to work." Naveed checked his omni-tool and sighed. "I do need to be there soon though, so I'll be brief: You mentioned in your message that you wanted me to push forward your next visit so we could discuss the option of hypnotherapy. Is that still the case?"

"If it's not a bother for you. I don't mind waiting my turn if it is."

"Very well. I will check my schedule and see if I can fit you in sooner."

Blair smiled, causing a cut in her lip to crack. Pity settled like a stone in the pit of Naveed's stomach. The human must have seen it flash behind his eyes because she tensed self-consciously. She followed his gaze and her good hand went to her mouth. When she drew it back, she looked at the red stain on her fingertips and her face fell. She whipped a dirty rag out of her tool belt to wipe the blood away but the drell caught her hand, offering a clean handkerchief from his breast pocket instead.

"Blair," he whispered softly, holding her hand and wishing her roaming brown eyes would meet his, "do you have any family on Noveria? Any friends?"

He watched her blink rapidly, trying to force away the water collecting on the rim of her lower lids. "No. Just Una. I came here because I needed the job."

"You mentioned that name earlier. Who is Una?"

Blair made a derisive laugh that cut him like a knife. "She's a bot. She was assigned to me after my operation to help me get by."

Naveed remained silent for several seconds, watching the woman daub at her lip with his handkerchief. Her loneliness was palpable, and it pained him. An idea suddenly crossed his mind, but his soul struggled to determine whether or not it would constitute a breach of the promise he'd made to Kilandra earlier.

"Blair, do you have any plans for this evening?" he asked finally.

She shook her head, still hiding half her face with her bloodied cloth.

"Then I'd like to invite you to my home for dinner. My mate Kilandra is an excellent cook."

"Isn't that against the rules?" she mumbled.

"Technically, no. Noveria is outside of Citadel space and so does not recognize the same regulations as you are used to. Ethically? Some would argue so, but I believe exceptions exist. As you said Blair, there are no rules to navigating a spiritual connection. If someone wants to deem me unethical for my kindness then so be it."

Blair folded the handkerchief and mulled silently. "Where do you live?"


	4. Arashu

**Friction Chapter Four**

When Naveed came home he paused at the door and collected himself before sliding his keycard in the security panel. He knew Kilandra would be waiting for him on the other side, ready to renew the argument she'd been forced to let go of upon dropping him off at work earlier that morning. She hadn't taken well to the idea of a "stranger" in their home, and she'd made him aware of her displeasure in tones that made his sensitive ears ache. What bothered him most about the exchange was the undercurrent of venom in her voice that he'd never heard before, and it had been playing in his head all day. It upset and worried him, so much so that he'd spent half his lunch break staring at the comm device on his desk, debating whether or not to call Blair and cancel his plans out of concern. As he stood reflecting on his doorstep, he wondered who it was he was more concerned for: his lover or his patient. Before he could form a conclusion, the door opened in front of him, revealing a very angry asari.

"Kilandra..." he muttered.

She stared at him coldly for several moments before reaching out and slapping his shoulder. "I can't believe you, Naveed! I tell you that you're spending too much time at work and so you decide to bring it home with you?"

"'It' has a name," he said, bristling, "Blair is a person, not a project."

"Oh really? Your other patients are people, but you don't invite them to dinner. What's so special about this one?"

"Can we go inside to talk about this? The neighbors can hear you."

"What's the matter? Are you embarrassed? Don't want all of Port Hanshan knowing what an insensitive ass you are?"

"Insensitive? For being supportive of a young woman with very real problems who has nowhere else to turn? She's a human, Kilandra, a female one. Where is she supposed to go on a disproportionately male spaceport full of aliens to meet people? Some filthy bar in the Foundations? You know as well as I do that the denizens of the Atrium wouldn't give an NDC tech the time of day."

"That's not your problem, Naveed. She isn't your responsibility!"

"So you're telling me I should have walked away? Just left her bleeding there in that freezing garage? Because in my mind that is the behavior that befits an ass, and I won't do it. Not after what happened to Vashtee."

The asari's face froze and her arm dropped from where it'd been barring his passage on the doorframe. "You haven't mentioned her in a long time. I thought you were over that."

The drell scratched at his patterned throat absently. He hadn't meant to blurt out that name and bring forth all the dark things it represented, but heavy memories had a way of resisting being hidden. He cleared his throat. "I thought I'd put it behind me as well, but this morning, when I heard Blair's voice on the tape…she sounded so distraught. So alone."

"That's why you passed out this morning isn't it? The memories came back again."

He nodded. "I didn't even feel it coming on. I just got up and I was there, with Vashtee on the cliff by the sea. I watched her drown all over again."

Kilandra softened and reached out to touch the fringed side of his face. "Blair isn't Vashtee, Naveed, and what happened to her wasn't your fault. This is why I want you to stop working so much; you're becoming obsessed." She left the doorway to embrace him and force his huge eyes to hers. "You need a break, to let someone else listen to your problems for awhile…"

"Perhaps you are right," he mumbled. "I haven't had a sabbatical since - since the accident. I just thought that if I kept busy…I'm sorry, Kilandra." He rested his chin on top of her head and sighed. "I feel like we have been drifting apart lately. Maybe I should take some time off so that we can reconnect. Somewhere away from here. Somewhere warm."

"I'd like that." she said, nuzzling his arm. "I suppose I should have prepared myself for this. I knew when I met you that you were the type to put others before yourself. It's part of what made me love you."

"Do you still love me, Kilandra?"

"Of course. It's why I'm willing to put up with your patient, but only for one night. I will cook and clean and make her feel welcome, but tomorrow I want you home early - alone."

She left his embrace and tugged on his arm. "Now come inside, it's cold out here in the hall."

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

Blair picked at the protective sleeve on her bionic arm as she walked slowly down the hallway of Naveed's living complex. It was a pricey local in the Atrium district, and she felt out of place in it. Everything around was too clean, too cold, and too quiet. Even the potted plants that crowded the gently curving corners seemed dormant, like they'd been bored into hibernation. She couldn't hear the dull roar of Noveria's hydraulic systems - a sound she focused on during sleepless nights down in the Foundations - and she hadn't seen a single soul since entering the lonely compound. Not even a maintenance mech cared to cross her path before she reached her destination.

She stopped in front of the appropriate airlock and fished in a side-pocket of her tool belt, producing a small box wrapped in a blue ribbon. After failing miserably to remove the stains from the handkerchief the drell had given her earlier, she'd checked her credit balance and decided to simply purchase him a new one. Money was tight , but she refused to show up at her host's house empty-handed, especially after he'd gone out of his way to check on her. With a deep breath, she discharged her bionic arm into the metal wall and pushed the security panel's comm button. She heard a faint chime from inside the unit that summoned Naveed to the door.

The airlock retreated into the walls, replaced by the drell's sunny yellow face. He smiled and tented his slender fingers in front of his chest before greeting her with a small bow.

"Welcome Blair. Please, come in."

He stepped to the side and allowed her to pass in front of him into a large living room lined with art and expensive electronics. A dining table stood in a alcove to her left, already laid-out with placemats and pricey silverware. She tried to keep a nervous laugh from escaping as she eyed the wealth around her; her modest gift seemed like a joke in comparison.

"I hope you didn't have any trouble finding the place," Naveed said as the airlock closed shut.

"No," she replied, "but I was a little worried when I came up the elevator. There didn't seem to be anybody home."

"Many of the units here are retained by the Peak corporations for visiting associates, so they are empty much of the time. It was actually a selling point for me when I moved; I enjoy the quiet."

Blair used her good hand to present the small box she carried. "I brought you something."

He simply stood and smiled for a moment before accepting the package and sliding off the ribbon with slender fingers. She held her breath nervously as he lifted the lid. A light laugh left his fine mouth, and his eyes glittered when they returned to hers.

"No gift is necessary, Blair, but it is warmly received nonetheless. Come, I would like you to meet Kilandra."

Naveed lead her into the kitchen, where a pot sat simmering on the stove and the smell of baking bread filled the air. A tall, pale blue asari was busy attending to the cooking, but she stopped when the pair approached. The asari gave Blair an appraising glance that made the cuts on her face sting.

"Kilandra, I would like you to meet Blair Hodges."

Kilandra replaced the cover over her pot of soup and turned to take the human's outstretched hand. "I'm glad you could make it. It looks like you had a hard time last night."

A flush heated its way up Blair's neck, and she tensed when Naveed's cool hands came to rest lightly on her shoulders.

"I think she'll pull through," he interjected. "Will dinner be ready soon?"

"The bread still has to finish baking," Kilandra told him before looking to Blair. "I'd offer you something to drink while you're waiting, but Naveed says you're not allowed."

"I said she can't have alcohol, Kilandra," the drell clarified as he stepped around his guest to open the fridge. "I bought something else for us to have instead."

He pulled out a frosted bottle and retrieved two crystal glasses from a cabinet. While he poured a glass for each of them, the asari questioned Blair.

"So you're a mechanic?" the woman asked, gesturing to Blair's NDC uniform.

"An engineer, actually," Naveed said, once again arresting the conversation. "Blair has an advanced degree in robotics and AI research."

Kilandra's eyebrows rose in surprise and her painted mouth pursed. "Really? What are you doing in the NDC garage?"

Blair swallowed and brushed at her jumpsuit.

"It's been hard for me to find work in my field," she explained. "My schooling was stalled for awhile due to my accident, and the gap doesn't look very good on my resume."

"I suppose many employers don't want to be saddled with paying for your pre-existing condition either, do they?"

Naveed cleared his throat and handed Blair a glass of a chilled, pale-gold liquid. "Why don't we save that discussion for later? I'd like to show our guest around before we eat."

"Are you going to make her touch your rock?"

The human choked on her sweet-flavored drink. "His what?"

"His rock. It's in the bedroom; you can't miss it." Kilandra leveled a challenging glare at the drell and grinned smartly. "Show her your rock, Naveed. I want a third opinion on it."

"It's not a 'rock'," he explained in response to Blair's confused expression, "It's an altar to the drell goddess Arashu that has been in my family for many generations. Kilandra is only goading me because she's jealous."

"No, I goad him because I think it's ugly, and I want him to send it back to Kahje where it belongs." She gestured down the hallway energetically. "Go see for yourself; I'll start putting plates together."

Blair wasn't sure whether to laugh at the couple's squabble or stay out of it, but when Naveed gestured for her to follow him, she didn't hesitate. As they neared the end of the corridor, a rich smell flooded her nostrils and made the sugary drink on her tongue turn tangy.

"What is this?" she asked.

"The drink? It's a traditional beverage carried over from the drell homeworld of Rakhana. It's made using a fruit similar to what humans call a 'pear'."

The human's ears perked at the word. Though the difference in sentence structure made it slow to register, she realized he'd spoken using a human tongue. She stopped in her tracks.

"You speak English?"

He froze in his own path and turned to face her. "Yes."

"But…why haven't you used it before? Why not in our session?"

He blinked in consideration. "Because people prefer what is comfortable to them, and while your language - English - is familiar to you, hearing an alien speak it is not. Eidetic memory makes it very easy to pick up languages, particularly when you spend as much time talking to people as I do, but I've found most individuals are unsettled by it. Language forms a social barrier and crossing over it, even with good intentions, can be seen as invasive. Like straining to hear a whispered conversation."

Blair grinned at his perfect speech. "That's amazing," she said.

He smiled back. "Would you prefer I use it when speaking with you?"

"Oh, I don't mind either way. I kind of like the drell language."

"As you wish," he said, reverting to his native speech. "But while we are out of earshot, I would like to apologize for Kilandra's comments. She is coming upon her Matron years, and I fear the transition has not been easy for her."

"I understand. Human women go through the same kind of thing." She waved her bionic arm. "Besides, after living with this for seven years, I've pretty much heard it all."

"You are very forgiving, Blair. I believe Arashu will be pleased by you." He took both of her hands in his and directed her down the hall. "Come."

When they rounded the corner, Blair paused in the doorway to absorb the onyx-colored monument commanding the room. Several low-burning candles sat on its smooth surface, throwing shadows that intertwined on the walls like dancers before disappearing to reshape themselves. A thin trail of smoke rose up like a prayer from a bowl of ashes, wavering from time to time in the slightest current of wind. All the movement felt rhythmic and alive, as if the dark stone at its center were breathing.

Naveed genuflected in front of the altar before taking to his knees on a pile of multi-colored rugs stacked in front of it. He turned to Blair and invited her to sit by him with one outstretched hand. She tugged at the sleeve on her bionic arm nervously.

"What kind of goddess is Arashu exactly?" she asked softly.

"She is our mother - though it is important to note there is no comparable father deity in our religion. Arashu was the beginning of all; she stands alone as our great protector. She exists beyond time, in a state of constant recreation."

"Sounds like an important lady."

He laughed. "Very. Especially to one raised in her priesthood."

Blair's eyebrows lifted. "You were a priest?"

He tapped the rug beside him. "I will tell you, but please sit. Arashu will not bite."

"Says the snake-man," Blair quipped. She looked at the oily forms dancing on the walls again and noticed the stream of incense smoke had gone still. A twinge of phantom pain crept up her left side, but she did her best to block it out as she took a seat next to the drell.

"To call myself a priest is misleading," he began quietly. "I was raised in Arashu's traditions, but I never took any vows. You see, amongst those of the drell who still follow our old ways, gold is the color of the goddess. Children who are born with that coloring are considered to be blessed, and their parents often send them to serve in the remaining temples."

"And I'm guessing your yellow skin made you one of them?"

"Yes. After being passed over for the Compact, I entered the temple of Arashu with another child from my community. Her name was Vashtee."

"How did you end up out here on Noveria working as a psychologist?"

Naveed laughed. "That is a long story; one we don't have for time for tonight I'm afraid. Suffice it to say, my desire to help people was instilled early in me, and I find it fulfilling to aid others when I can. Do you remember when I said I am in a unique position to help you?"

"Yeah."

"This is because the technique I would like to try on you was taught to me in the temple. It is a dying discipline these days, but I have used it to provide relief to others before. I hope I can do the same for you."

Blair looked away from him and picked at the rug beneath her. "I've never really had much faith in gods or goddesses."

"Then have faith in me," he replied. "Touch the stone, Blair."

"Won't that make her mad? I'm not a drell…"

"Mad? Of course not. Have you ever known a mother to do anything but love a child, even if it was not her own? Trust me, Blair. Touch the stone."

The woman reached out to the black rock timidly. She tried to tell herself it was just exhaustion that made her hand shake as it did, but she didn't believe it. One of the candles popped just as her fingers were about to brush the marble surface, but before she could snatch her hand back out of reflex, Naveed pressed her palm to the altar. Time seemed to shift around her as warmth flowed into her hand and up her arm. She felt like her soul had suddenly left her body, and she was looking down on the scene in front of her as it unfolded in slow motion. Naveed was crouched next to her, watching the reaction on her face in awe. The smoke swirled wildly once more, and a shadow had appeared on the far wall that hadn't been there before. Blair's consciousness whipped around in perspective, affording her a view of the room's doorway. Kilandra stood there, watching the two of them, her face pinched in a sneer.


	5. Drowning

**Friction - Chapter Five**

"Welcome back, Blair," Naveed said as he watched the woman stroll forward and take the same seat she had during their first session. "Your face looks much better now. How have you been feeling?"

"Good," she said as she folded her aviators and sat them aside. "There's an Alliance ship docked at the spaceport with a bum MAKO. Their tech came to the garage looking for parts this morning, and he said he'd take me out to look at it later today. Should be fun; I used to work with MAKOs a lot when I still lived with my dad at the base in Shanxi."

"I'm glad you have something to look forward to. How have you been sleeping? Have you noticed any changes in mood or stress level since we reduced your medication?"

She shrugged. "Sleep is about the same I guess, and the new dosage is fine."

"I can give you something to help you sleep if you truly need it Blair, but I'd like to see if our session today brings any results before I prescribe anything for you. Such drugs are commonly associated with dependency, so I only use them as a last resort."

"I don't really need anything that badly. I'm getting by."

The drell leaned forward in his seat and observed the woman silently for a moment. "You know Blair, for someone in your position you are remarkably self-possessed. Have you always been so independent-minded?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Well, you have been living alone all this time under very trying circumstances and yet you are much more in control of your life than many people I've met outside my practice. Similarly, you remained composed even when faced with Kilandra's inappropriate comments during dinner. You did not lash out or let them get to you."

Blair slouched on the couch and tilted her head up to look out the skylight. "But they do get to me. I just don't see a point in making an argument out of it. Some people are judgmental assholes with bad attitudes. That doesn't mean I have to be." She glanced quickly back to Naveed. "Not that I mean there's anything wrong with Kilandra…"

He waved the comment away. "I understand your meaning, Blair, and I admire your resilience. Dr. Tunston sent over your files last week, including media reports of your crash. It's amazing you survived."

Her mouth clamped into a tight frown and her brows pinched. "I heard about those reports. Tunston wanted to me watch them as part of an 'exercise.' He said it would help me make sense of what happened; that it would make it 'real' for me." She swallowed thickly and looked up to the drell's dark eyes. "Apparently the fact I lost a limb, a father, and a career wasn't enough to do that."

"A career?"

She nodded and blinked away tears. "I wanted to study at the Alliance Academy to be a combat tech like the guy who came to me in the garage today, but I can't enlist because of my prosthesis. I wanted to live on a ship like my father did, and now I'm too damned scared to set foot on one without being hopped up on crazy pills."

Naveed stood up and retrieved a box of tissues from his desk then joined Blair on the white loveseat. He offered them to her and brought a hand to the back of her bare neck.

"You cut your hair," he said softly.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and huddled that way, wiping her nose absently. "I had to. Whenever I tried to pull it back my prosthesis would get caught in it. It was unmanageable after my operation anyway because of the…" She hiccupped. "The static."

The drell tapped his omni tool. "Tara, please bring us a glass of water." Without thinking, his hand moved back to the nape of her neck to brush the small point her cropped hair trailed into. "Blair, where is your mother? You speak often of your father, but you've never mentioned your other parent."

"I think she's moved back to Earth now," the human managed between hiccups. "She and my dad divorced when I was still young and my dad got custody, so I never had a very strong relationship with her. Sometimes she would send me things on my birthday, but I haven't spoken to her in almost five years."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No."

A door chime forced Naveed off the couch. He went to the airlock to his office and took the glass of water his asari secretary had brought. When he returned to Blair, her face was dry and she'd put her balled up tissues aside, but periodic spasms continued to jolt her body. He handed her the water then knelt in front of her where their faces could be level.

"It was not my intention to upset you with my comments," he told her. "And I won't ask you to watch the footage of your crash; reliving it under hypnosis will be hard enough as it is. Do you still wish to begin treatment today?"

She wiped her face with her hands and smoothed her hair in an effort to regain composure.

"Yes," she said shakily, "I can't keep going on like this. I'm so tired."

Naveed winced at the familiar words and struggled to fight off a wave of memory. To keep from losing control, he pinched the soft ligaments between the thumb and index finger of his left hand. The sharp pain rooted his consciousness firmly to the present. Once his soul had fully recovered his body, he refocused on Blair. She wore an expression of concern and curiosity that warranted an explanation.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'll be fine," he replied with a deep breath. "But I should correct something I told you during our last session. I was not entirely honest about drell memory and our ability to control it. I told you that we can dismiss unpleasant memories at will and avoid them in a similar fashion, but that is not always the case. Sometimes particularly vivid or traumatic experiences - like your accident - come up of their own accord, and try as we might, we are unable to make them go away. We must simply wait until the replay has faded or something outside our mind regains our attention. Like bodily pain."

She glanced at his hands and back to his face. "And that happened just now?"

"Yes. You…remind me of someone."

"Was she a mean person?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's just…well, it's not really appropriate to talk about it right now. This is your time, and we have more important things to discuss." He rose off the floor and retrieved his data pad from his desk. "Because of the nature of drell memory and its ability to take hold with little warning, a method was developed amongst the followers of Arashu to block off certain sensations. Particularly skilled practitioners can even pluck a memory from your mind entirely, as though it never happened."

"It is a drastic measure, and not one we take lightly, but there are times when falling into your past, even if briefly, can have very serious consequences. What if a pilot lost himself in flight? Or a surgeon during an operation? Due to the Compact, many drell are tasked with sophisticated work that the hanar lack the dexterity to perform, and therein lies the necessity. A drell who cannot control himself is a potential danger to others."

"Like an engineer who's as likely to blow up your equipment as to fix it," Blair said with a wan smile. "Too bad that problem lies in my cybernetics and not in my head I guess."

"About that," he began as he took to his chair again, "I'm going to be taking a trip to Thessia with Kilandra next week so she can address some family business, and there is something I would like you to do while I am gone. I have a friend who works in neuroscience that is willing to take a look at your bionic modification and cybernetic structures as a favor to me. Normally she doesn't work on weekends, but I convinced her to schedule a consultation for you this Saturday so you would not have to miss any work. Also, because I am unsure of the tests she would like to perform, I booked a room for you at a hotel near her office. I hope you won't mind spending a night in a strange place."

"A room?" Blair repeated.

Naveed exhaled and spoke calmly. "Yes. Rena's lab is in Port Locke on the other side of Noveria. You will have to take a shuttle."

As he anticipated, the human's eyes widened in protest. "There isn't someone closer? I can't afford a shuttle!

"You won't have to; I've already covered the expenses. Your ticket and departure information will be sent to your omni-tool in the morning."

"What? No! I'm not going to take your money. It's not right. I'm an adult; I can take care of myself."

"Blair, even adults need help sometimes. If they didn't I wouldn't have a job, and you would never have come here in the first place. I do not wish to wound your pride, but I do not wish to see you suffer needlessly either. If you will not go for yourself, then do it for my sake. I would sleep much better at night knowing that everything that can be done for you, is being done."

"What makes you think she can help me? I've been to a half-dozen doctors and they couldn't tell me squat."

"When, Blair? When did you see those doctors? Seven years ago when you were first injured? Technology advances quickly - you know that. There may be new treatments available now, better medical equipment, a greater understanding of bio-mechanical infrastructures…"

She continued to stare at him blandly and he sighed.

"Please, Blair. I need to make sure there are no underlying medical problems that could be causing your symptoms, and I am not qualified to make that judgment. Rena is an expert and a friend. She will take good care of you in my absence."

"Why can't she come here? Why do I have to take a shuttle?" she argued.

"I know you don't like it. I knew it when I bought your ticket, but it will allow me to determine whether or not our work here today has been successful."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I want to test how receptive you are to suggestion."

"Is that part of the hypnosis?"

"Yes. It's not something I can easily explain, and even if I could, I wouldn't. Despite a growing need for it amongst our population, the method I practice is closely guarded by Arashu's priesthood. In the wrong hands, it has great potential for abuse. After all, memories make up the story of one's life, so rewriting the past or carelessly removing a page of it can adversely affect one's present identity, and that is the exact opposite of what I strive to achieve. When I practice, it is to restore your freewill to your mind, not to damage it."

"You're saying there are people who use your discipline to control others?"

Naveed nodded with a frown. "There have been. It is why we keep it so secret."

"How do I know you won't do something like that to me?" she asked in a tone that suggested she wasn't altogether serious. The corners of Naveed's defined lips turned up.

"You don't I suppose, but I would like you to know: I could no more harm you than I could the one you remind me of. I'm afraid I'm too fond of you for that." He stood up with a challenging smile. "Are you ready to begin?"

Blair stood and let Naveed lead her into a small room adjoining his office proper. It was warm inside, and laser lights embedded in the floor along the walls projected an aurora borealis in shades of twilight. A couch stood at the center of the room, next to two low tables and a lone medical cart. The human recognized the familiar incense that flitted about the air, but the quiet presence she'd felt that night in Naveed's bedroom was absent. The drell turned to her and gestured to the couch.

"Please lie down. Feel free to remove your shoes or your jacket if that makes you more comfortable."

The woman followed his instructions and lay on her back with both hands clasped over her stomach. From the corners of her eyes, she watched Naveed adjust a dial on the wall and hang his jacket on a peg near the airlock. He wore a wine-colored tunic underneath that contrasted attractively with his bright pigmentation. The wall of light that wavered on the ceiling highlighted the individual scales of his now-bare shoulders. He returned to her and unfolded a small stool form the medical cart. When he sat, he was too far back for her to see his face anymore. She felt his hands on the side of her face suddenly and her heart rate skipped.

"Is it too warm for you? Would you like a pillow?" he asked he smoothed her hair away from her eyes and mouth.

"No, thanks. I think I'm okay."

"Good. Are you ticklish? I only ask because I once had a patient inadvertently strike me in a sensitive place."

Blair tried to stifle a laugh that ultimately escaped as a snort.

"And your response is to laugh at me," Naveed observed lightly. "That's fine. The hands of Arashu are nothing if not humble. Besides, laughing is good for easing tension and I need you to be relaxed."

"Just don't brush the sides of my ribcage and you'll be fine," Blair told him with a grin.

"Very well, let's get started." After he pawed around in the cabinet a bit, his hands appeared on the edges of Blair's vision. He held up a white clip with a wire attached. "I'm sure you know all of this already, Blair, but policy dictates I have to explain to all of my patients. This is a heart rate monitor; it provides me with information on your vital signs while you are under. If you will give me your right hand, please."

She brought her hand to the side of her face and let him carefully clamp it over her index finger. As she moved her hand back to her stomach, a digital timer set for fifteen minutes came into view.

"This is so you know how much time as passed since I put you to sleep. Depending on the session, I will use increments of fifteen minutes, thirty, or in rare cases, a full hour. Since this is your first time, I will keep the session brief. Assuming things go well, we will delve into the past of your accident at a later time. Normally I would offer to let you hold this, but because of your unique situation, I will place it on the cabinet here, alright?"

Her eyes tracked his hand to her left. There must have been a magnet on the back of the timer, because it stuck to the side of the cabinet's metal frame.

"Now all of that is out of the way, I want you to close your eyes and clear your mind as best you can. Take deep breaths, inhaling with your nose and exhaling through the mouth."

Blair did so and felt Naveed's hands return to her face. His fingers slid under her neck and his thumbs brushed lightly at her temples. After a few minutes of silence, she noticed her breathing had taken on the rhythm of his thumb strokes; air came in as he moved his thumbs down and went out again as they moved back up. A light-headedness began to make her body feel fuzzy. When Naveed finally spoke, his voice had taken on a strange tone, and he sounded far away, on the edge of her hearing.

"Imagine Blair, that you are floating on your back on the surface of the ocean. The water is comfortably cool and it ripples gently around you. You can smell the salt of the sea and hear gulls crying in the distance. The sky is clear and you can feel the warmth of the sun on your face; its rays brighten the back of your eyelids."

The blackness of her closed eyes flashed briefly, and she felt the sensation of heat on her face. Her hand shot up anxiously, but a calming command from Naveed stopped her.

"Don't touch. You are leaving your body now to sink into the depths below. You open your eyes and see your old self on the surface. The sun is fractured by a prism of waves and your vessel is being carried away by the tide. You do not miss the air because no longer need it. Your consciousness is ethereal; as formless and adaptable as the ocean around you. The water calls for you to disperse and become a part of it."

Blair's body went numb and Naveed's voice got closer.

"Let the water win."


	6. Empty

**Friction - Chapter Six**

Naveed sat quietly with Kilandra aboard a passenger-class cruiser en route to Thessia. While she perused a magazine on a couch in the center of the cabin, he rested near the window, looking out over the stars without actually seeing them. His mind was too occupied by the images of twisted metal and empty eyes he'd seen in Blair's crash report. He felt her scars under his fingertips and the weight of her prosthetic hand in his and wondered which part of the whole ordeal had been worse for her: the pain or the terror.

_"I usually wake up when I start to smell my skin burning."_

The drell frowned at the memory and reached subconsciously for his shoulder. "Usually", she had said. What happened when she didn't wake up? His mind seized his body again and forced his gaze to his omni-tool to check the time. Blair would be boarding her shuttle soon. He was tempted to fire off a message of encouragement to her, but Kilandra's hard voice interrupted him.

"If you look at that omni-tool one more time I'm going to snatch it off and throw it down the garbage shoot."

Naveed looked up with a forced smile and pulled his sleeve back down over the wrist device. "I'm only confirming our hotel registration, Kilandra. We have a 24-hour layover on Illium remember?"

The asari rolled her eyes and threw her magazine down on the coffee table in front of her. "You're a horrible liar, Naveed."

The drell dropped his feigned expression and shifted in his seat. "Yes I am."

"Well, out with it. You're going to make this trip miserable otherwise. Are you thinking about that girl again?"

"Yes," he replied honestly. "I'm having second thoughts about sending her away on her own. No one will be there to help her if the shuttle proves too much."

"Too late now," Kilandra said crisply. "Besides, she had to take a shuttle to get to Noveria in the first place didn't she? I'm sure she can manage it again."

"I don't know. Blair was so loaded up on anti-anxiety pills then that she was practically on auto-pilot."

"So why did you take her off them?"

The drell looked at the asari with wide eyes and sat forward in his seat. "Because turning patients into zombies is wrong? She had three times the standard therapeutic dose in her system, the highest amount a physician can prescribe without being considered criminally negligent."

"If the case calls for it-"

"But it doesn't call for it. Blair is not psychotic or mentally defective. She's sensitive and lonely and afraid - and she has perfectly natural reasons to be these things." He sighed and glanced out the window a moment before looking back to the asari. "Over-medicating is like a forced Disconnect. It doesn't solve any of a patient's problems, it just makes them unable to feel. It stifles the soul and I find it disgusting. I have half a mind to report Blair's previous doctor to the ethics board on the Citadel."

Kilandra looked at him unblinking for several seconds before her face contorted into a smile. The smile led to a hearty laugh that left Naveed confused. He stood and held out his arms. "What are you laughing at?"

"Oh Naveed," the woman managed between chuckles, "I'm laughing at you. Come and sit with me, precious." The drell complied and she snuggled into the curve of his arm, leaving one manicured hand on his chest. "You must really be upset about this; your heart is beating so fast…"

"I am upset. Doctors like Tunston are a black-eye on my profession, and innocent people suffer because of them. Blair was nineteen when she had her accident; amongst humans that's little more than a child. She had no way of knowing how those drugs would work and her only 'advocate' clearly didn't have her best interests in mind."

"And you do?"

"Yes."

The asari twittered again and snaked one of her legs over his. "What about my best interests?"

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged and brushed her hand up to his ribbed neck. "I've never seen you get so worked up over something to do with me…" She paused a moment and looked him in the eye. "Are you sleeping with that girl?"

The drell stiffened and a series of emotions ranging from shock to outrage to disbelief crossed his face rapidly. His already huge eyes grew abnormally large, and his words were barely a whisper. "What did you just say?"

Kilandra frowned at his response and leaned away from him. "I want to know if there's something going on with that girl you brought over. You haven't shut up about her since."

"So you automatically think I must be having an affair with her?" Naveed protested in a rising voice. "Kilandra, are you mad?"

"Oh, sure, Naveed. Mad. That must be it. I guess that scene of the two of you getting comfortable in front of the altar of Arashu was all in my head wasn't it?"

"Don't you mean the 'rock' of Arashu?"

"Don't change the subject."

Naveed's eyeridges knitted and he leaned forward in his seat, blinking bewilderedly. "Making Blair comfortable was the whole point, Kilandra. She isn't used to relying on others; I can't form a rapport with her if she doesn't trust me."

"She trusted you enough to come over," the asari pouted.

The drell stood up and flung his arms to his sides. "I can't believe we're having this discussion."

"Well neither can I! I don't know what you see in that...that..."

"That what?" he pressed as his voice dropped to a cold hiss. "Why don't you say it, Kilandra? We both know you're thinking it. That cripple? You were beating Blair over the brow with it the entire time she was visiting us. She was a guest, in our home, and you couldn't have been more disrespectful. I didn't say anything before because I thought your mood would pass, but I have never in my life been so embarrassed, so offended - and your bile wasn't even directed at me!" He put a hand on his hip and gestured with other. "You told me you would cooperate, that you would make her feel welcome, but you didn't! You treated her like some kind of second-class outcast. I didn't take Blair into the bedroom to be alone with her; I took her there to get her away from you."

Kilandra's lips parted in protest as her bluish face turned violet. "So now you're turning this on me?"

"Turning what on you? Nothing's happened! I don't understand why you suddenly think I'm being unfaithful just because I'm showing concern for someone other than yourself. You aren't the center of the damn universe, Kilandra. I didn't want to come on this trip - I wanted to stay home where I'm needed, but I came because you asked me to, because I care about you, and you reward me by ambushing me with unfounded accusations?"

"Your behavior is out of control, and I don't like it. I have been trying very hard to be patient and understanding regarding recent events, but all of your hot-and-cold is killing me. One minute you're fine, like you were just now, and the next...who knows. It frustrates me and it makes me worry. I do everything I can to try to make you happy and nothing seems to work anymore." Naveed sighed and turned away as the fight drained out of him. He returned to the chair by the window and collapsed in a forlorn heap. "Make up all the wild fantasies you like about me, but leave Blair out of it."

"You said she reminds you of Vashtee-"

"Who was my friend, never my lover. Arashu! Listen to yourself!"

"So you really haven't been with her?"

Before Naveed could answer, a chime sounded on the cruiser's PA system, followed by the voice of the pilot announcing their arrival to Illium. A warning light went up to make passengers aware of impending descent, and the mass effect envelope that lined the edges of the window began to color shift. The pair remained seated with a heavy silence between them as the ship met the planet and docked. When they'd finally come to rest, Naveed stood up and gathered their belongings to depart. Kilandra made a show of assisting him, but he waved her away angrily.

"I'll get it; just go get us checked in."

"But I want to help!"

"I said I'll get it," he repeated.

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

The elevator ride to their high-rise hotel room was a tense one. Naveed stood rigidly with the luggage at his sides, refusing to speak or make eye contact with the asari that wrung her hands helplessly alongside him. There was no point in talking when all of their words were angry ones.

"Naveed, I'm sorry!" the asari exclaimed as she grabbed his upper arm and clung to him desperately. "I was wrong to suspect anything. Please don't be this way to me..."

He turned to her sharply, his fine mouth pressed into a tight line and his eyeridges twitching in barely contained aggression. Kilandra reached to touch one of his high, arching cheekbones but he pushed her hand away. A small cry escaped the woman's painted lips and her eyes began to glitter with unshed tears. The drell sighed through his nose and faced the elevator doors again, mustering all his strength to keep his tone a level one.

"We will resolve this when we return to Noveria," he told her. "In the meantime, we will pretend as though nothing has happened. I will not be upsetting your mother during her daughter's funeral."

"Alright," Kilandra said weakly, "I'll do whatever you want."

"I want you to be silent."

She shrunk away from his cold demeanor and held her hands close to her body as if to ward off some unseen threat. As soon as the elevator reached their floor, Naveed blew past her, unhindered by the weight of the baggage he carried and a group of salarians waiting in the hall outside the elevator doors. The latter muttered hasty curses at him in their native tongue, and for once he didn't bother to stop and apologize. Kilandra trailed after him hurriedly, struggling to match his impressive stride in the restrictive dress she wore.

"Naveed stop this," she pleaded plaintively.

He ignored her and sat their bags down outside the door that matched the pass card the hotel clerk had given him. His hands shook as he swiped it through the security panel and waited for the light to turn green. When it did, the airlock slid open with a soft hiss to reveal the plush suite he'd purchased especially to keep Kilandra comfortable. It seemed like a waste to him now.

A fresh pang of hurt assaulted him as he entered and dropped their things carelessly in the doorway. The asari came in behind him and blocked the exit when she saw him turn to leave.

"Where are you going?" she demanded anxiously.

"Does it matter?" he snapped. He blinked and looked away as his eyes started to burn. "There's a bottle of wine in the fridge. I requested it when I made our reservation, but in light of our recent discussion I think I'd rather drink alone tonight."

He left her with that and headed for the elevator, ignoring the pleas that echoed after him. He wasn't sure where he was going, but it didn't really matter. All he wanted was to get away to some secluded corner where he could be alone with his thoughts and his goddess. The elevator deposited him in the lobby and he stepped through its double airlock doors into the open-air marvel that was No Astra, Illium's capital and cultural center. It was nearing twilight, but still people thronged the streets of the busy spaceport. He moved out of the shadow of the hotel and joined them in the city proper, searching the many fluorescent signs he passed for some place that might suit his solitary mood.

After a few minutes he came upon a courtyard full of public terminals and a large outdoor LCD display. Its soft glow made the surroundings seem cold and empty despite the warm breeze that ran through the folds of his jacket and the many voices that reached his ears. He took a moment to observe Illium's stately skyline and spotted a sonic-white sign in the near distance. The asari characters read simply: Eternity. The out-of-body feeling that Arashu's presence inspired came to the front of his thoughts; it was like limbo, like one's own private eternity. He made his way towards the establishment, doing the best he could to ignore the eyes that wandered over his body. Drell weren't a common people; yellow ones even less so.

When the airlock opened, a small gust of wind blew by as if to suck him in. A few heads turned to take of note of him, but most of the clientele kept to their drinks and conversations - just as he wanted them to. The bar was relatively spacious, with a high glass ceiling that showcased the stars that were just beginning to peek out of the heavens. Music with a slow rythym and synthed sounds played softly from an unseen source, easing the black mood that threatened to overwhelm him. He found a dimly-lit alcove walled-in on one side by a window and a row of booths on the other. Shortly after seating himself, a thin whip of an asari ventured over cautiously. Judging by her short crest and unfilled form, Naveed guessed she was still very young.

"What can I get for you, Sere?" she asked.

"Elasa, please."

"Ooo, Sorrow's Companion," the asari crooned in sympathy before quirking a tattooed eyebrow suggestively, "Anything else?"

The drell looked up from resting his head and his hands wearily.

"No," he said flatly. "And aren't you a little underage to be playing such games?"

She smirked and gave a sharp laugh. "Who are you? My father?"

"Most certainly not. No child of mine would be lounging about in a bar offering herself to strange men she's never seen before and will never see again."

"Hmph. Given that you're here by yourself drinking elasa I doubt that'll be a problem for you anytime soon."

The waitress returned to the bar after her snide remark and sent another back with his drink, though he could still see her starring daggers at him from behind the crowded counter. He took a long swallow of the greenish liquid in his glass and turned away from the adolescent asari to watch the shuttle transits zipping by outside. It occurred to him that there were multitudes living in Nos Astra, and yet he'd never felt more alone. The burning in his eyes returned and he put his head back in his hands to shield his face and the raw emotion that resided there. As the liquor took hold his will began to falter.

What had he done wrong? How could his mate of five years suddenly call him into question? Why?

Hot tears ran over his eyelids and fell to the table below while his shoulders began to shake. He had only the shadows of his dark corner to hide him now, but part of him didn't care anymore. He was furious that Kilandra would accuse him of infidelity and even more hurt by it. He was confused at who the woman he loved had become, and how he could have ignored the changes. Did the asari really mean the hateful words she'd said about Blair on the ship, or was it just another tactic to elicit some special response from him?

He gripped the sides of his face harshly. He did everything for Kilandra; he gave her his affection, his time, his body… He gave her the roof over her head and the clothes she wore and the love he thought she deserved. Didn't he deserve the same? Did she appreciate him at all?

Somehow he managed to swallow a rising sob and compose himself. He lifted his head and moved a hand to the breast pocket of his jacket, withdrawing a small square of crisp, clean linen. He was about to wipe his eyes with it when he recalled that it was the handkerchief Blair had given him. A sad smile pulled at his lips as he fingered the folded cloth. It was of a cheaper make than the handkerchief he'd given her, but somehow that fact made the modest gift so much more endearing to him. Blair had so little of her own that any gift from her would be a worthy one. He remembered his reflection in the old, battered glasses she seemed to love so much and a fresh stream of tears blurred his vision.

Blair was everything Kilandra wasn't. Her life was lonely and full of misfortunes. Her work was hard and her profit little. She found happiness in small things, and gracefully bore the weight of large ones. She'd fake a smile just to get one in return, and never admit it.

The drell's throat constricted painfully. Kilandra was right; he did have feelings for his human patient that went beyond standard professionalism. He covered his mouth with the handkerchief and muttered a mild oath.

"Arashu, help me…"


	7. Intellect

**Friction - Chapter Seven**

Blair shivered under her sheets and watched her alarm clock's digital display tick towards the hour of her flight. She needed to get out of bed soon, but neither the cold air of her apartment nor the prospect of a shuttle trip did much to move her to purpose. For over a half-hour she'd simply been balled up in the fetal position, fighting a losing battle for sleep with the butterflies in her stomach. She kneaded out a pinched nerve above her surgical band and decided to give up on getting anymore rest.

"Una," she called through chapped lips and a dry throat.

At the sound of her voice, soft noises echoed out of the droid's cubby, soon followed by the mech herself. Una propelled onto the bed and landed in a heap of blankets with an excited series of bleeps that stretched Blair's long yawn into an amused smile.

"Well, at least someone's looking forward to today's trip," the woman mumbled sleepily. "Will you turn the heat up please, ma'am?"

The mech rolled to the floor with a thunk and skittered busily into the living room to find the thermostat. As Blair watched her go, she caught sight of her laptop on the floor where she'd left it the night before. Upon realizing she'd never shut it off, she finally managed to drag herself out of bed. The computer could provide some distraction on the shuttle, but only if it still had some battery life left. She picked it up and placed it on top of her dresser as the cold floor sent goose bumps up the back of her bare legs. After switching her prosthesis's power core for the computer in the wall outlet, she went back to her bed and sat.

Her bionic arm rested in its usual place on her nightstand, and just as she did every morning, she went through the motions of trying to pin it down with her good elbow and slide in the power core at the same time. She grinned in triumph when it finally locked into place and began lining up her prosthesis interface to pull it on. Una came rolling back into the room just as her human finished sealing the bionic's electrical socket.

"I don't think we have time for breakfast Una," Blair told the mech, "but we can make some coffee. Would you like that? Coffee?"

The droid chattered busily and followed Blair into the kitchen where she bleeped impatiently at the human's efforts to locate the coffee beans. Despite Una's pushy attitude, the woman only smiled. She'd first noticed Una's obsession with the grinder some months ago, and while she wasn't sure how the simple machine could capture her mech's imagination, she found it endlessly amusing. She found the foiled bag of coffee and plopped it into the counter.

"There, okay?" she chided the mech. "Just give me a minute. I'm not like you, you know. I don't get my energy from batteries. I need coffee to wake up."

Una made a whining noise that made Blair laugh. The human opened the bag of beans and dumped a cupful into her coffee grinder. She was about to plug it in when she suddenly stopped.

"Sleeve," she remembered. Blair turned to the mech and tapped her bionic arm. "Una, help me find my sleeve." The two went back to the bedroom and began searching through piles of blankets and a hamper of unwashed clothes. A few minutes later they were back in the kitchen, with the human's finger over the grinder's power button and the droid's ocular lens fully open. The small apartment erupted in noise as soon as Blair flipped the switch. Una sputtered madly at the appliance until her human shut it off.

"All done," Blair said. "In the pot now." The mech remained silent in disappointment but looked up to the woman for further instruction. "Why don't you watch the coffee while I go get dressed? All I need to do is pack up my bathroom stuff and we should be good to go."

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

The queasy feeling Blair had woken up with slowly multiplied as she passed the airlock into Noveria's commercial spaceport. It was a larger facility than the terminal the NDC charter had flown her into upon first arriving, and it had security to match. She'd only just entered the lobby and already a half-dozen uniformed ERCS guards had come into view. As expected from a company founded by turians, most of the guards were of the same species. They scanned the passengers with a scrutiny made so much sharper by their tiny, hawk-like eyes.

The woman licked her lips and whispered over her shoulder to the pack on her back. "What do you think, Una?" She felt the droid shift against her spine before issuing a low response. "Yeah, well, just keep quiet until we get on the shuttle alright? Pretend you're in your cubby charging."

Una settled again and stayed silent. Blair sighed then straightened her shoulders with determination. She walked to one of the icy windows at the edge of the lobby and peered out at the shuttles beyond. They looked stable enough, and the weather was relatively clear. She ran the drell doctor's reassurances through her head, and the bubbling her gut began to subside. Maybe the hypnosis would work after all; maybe she would get on the shuttle, watch it take off, and actually manage to enjoy her little impromptu vacation. Her focus shifted to her reflection in the glass and the bronze lenses of the aviators across her eyes. She thought she saw her father's face for a moment in the frost, and somehow it made her smile.

"Okay, old-man," she mumbled, "I'll do it. I'll make you proud again."

She turned away from the window and took her place at the back of the baggage check. Her ticket information was already loaded to her credit chit, so she hoped things would go smoothly once it was her turn. The faster she got through the terminal and the onto the ship the lesser the risk of someone examining Una too closely. Whenever the turian guards passed by she made a show of sipping coffee from her travel mug. All the other passengers appeared to be businessmen, rattling on their omni-tools or clacking at their data pads, so she figured she could use the small distraction.

As the line shuffled forward slowly, Blair inspected the ETA board overhead. She found her flight number and checked its status: on-time. Her spirits rose even further. Good weather, good ship, good time - she had all the hallmarks of a successful voyage. She pulled a destination brochure for Port Locke out of her pocket and examined it. As she contemplated the business she had there, a cramp tightened her left shoulder.

"Ow," she exclaimed as the pain forced her to drop the brochure to the floor and grab what fleshy part remained of her bad arm. She squatted on the ground as the cramp exploded into daggers, causing Una to chatter curiously. "It's okay, Una," she wheezed through clenched teeth. "Just stay clam - it'll pass."

Blair was so focused on the pain that she didn't even notice the guard that approached her worriedly. He reached out to touch her shoulder and addressed her in concern. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

His response was a harsh one as one of Una's tool-tipped limbs jabbed into his hand. The turian made a grunt that was more surprise than pain before stepping backward. He retrieved his weapon as the droid sliced a hole in her pack and dropped to the floor. Una rotated to face the offended guard and bleeped at him angrily. Blair tried to raise her head and explain the situation as the passengers near her scattered.

"The mech won't…hurt you," she managed between labored breaths, "She's just…trying…to protect me."

The turian tried to circle around to Blair's side again, but Una wouldn't let him. Every time he took a step she charged him with a epithet of computerized chimes. Other guards began gathering at the scene while the human woman tried to talk down her mech. When it became apparent to the droid that she was outnumbered, she pulled her limb back into her frame and backed up by her keeper. The turian guard put his gun away and approached once more - cautiously this time.

"Turn off the mech," he commanded the crippled woman, "And show some ID."

.oO-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Oo.

Loud music coupled with the aftereffects of his elasa eventually forced Naveed out of Eternity. The drell didn't drink often, and he knew any more liquor would turn his pleasant numbness into a pounding headache. He settled his tab with a gruff asari Matron at the bar; the young one that had been soliciting him earlier was already seated comfortably on the lap of some tipsy turian business man. He observed her false smiles and lascivious gaze with a jaded frown, wondering if his relationship with Kilandra had all been an act as well.

"Will you be needing a shuttle home, sere?" the elder asari offered him.

"No, thank you," Naveed replied as he turned back to her and took his credit chit. "I think I could use some air."

Upon exiting the establishment his eyes went to his omni-tool. It was getting late, and he suspected Kilandra would be calling him soon, if she wasn't out looking for him already. He glanced up a patch of clouds that had begun to obfuscate the starry sky and sighed. He didn't want to return to the hotel and spend a sleepless night on a stiff mattress, but he didn't want the Kilandra out wandering by herself either. Angry though he was, he still cared about the woman, and Nos Astra's dark side was no great secret.

He concealed his credit chit in a slot on his wrist device then headed for the hotel. There was a faint smell of rain on the wind, but he didn't bother to hurry. He needed the walk back to clear his head, to sort through the confused emotions that still roiled behind his deceptively placid eyes.

Was Kilandra right to suspect him? How could she know of feelings that he had only just realized? More importantly, what made her think he would ever actually act on them? Blair was his patient, and he'd made a vow of no harm - not only to those who sought his help, but to Arashu as well. Never in a million years would his morals allow him to take advantage of someone under his care, much less one as vulnerable as the human in question. The drell shook his head as the first drops of rain spattered on the ground around him. Blair's life had enough heartache already. Whatever his feelings were, they were best kept between himself and his goddess.

He was about to turn the corner into the courtyard of his high-rise hotel when his omni-tool lit up the night air around him. To his surprise, it wasn't Kilandra's contact that appeared on his ID - it was an ERCS line out of Noveria. Naveed stopped in his tracks and ducked into an alleyway between a food stall and an amps supplier just as the rain grew into a heavy downpour. He realized Blair's shuttle was due to take off within the hour and his skin tightened over his muscles anxiously.

"Doctor Naveed Eldrani?" a voice inquired out of his wrist device.

"Yes," the drell answered hurriedly, "Can I help you?"

"I'm Torvo Ferran with Elanus Risk Controls Services, Port Hanshan, Noveria. I'm sorry to bother you sir, but we've detained a human woman here at the spaceport. Identification shows her to be a 'Blair Hodges.' She says she's traveling under your authorization."

"That's correct. Why are you holding her? Is she alright?"

"She's fine, sir, but I'm afraid we can't allow her to fly into Port Locke with an unlicensed AI."

Naveed's eyes pinched and a cool breeze rippled through his jacket. "An AI?" he repeated softly.

There was a pause and some background noise before the voice spoke up again. "Am I to assume the mech designated 'Oo-nuh', serial 0972-XI: Sirta Foundation is unknown to you?"

"Oonuh…" the drell muttered absently as he shuffled memories.

"Blair, do you have any family on Noveria? Any friends?" "No. Just Una."

"Sir?" the ERCS rep called.

"Apologies. The name escaped for a moment but I do indeed know the mech in question," Naveed clarified. "The young woman you have in your custody is one of my patients. She is a bionic and Una is her registered support droid. I was unaware of the mech's level of sophistication when I booked Miss Hodges's flight, but considering her condition I'm sure an exception can be made."

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. Your patient is free to fly, but the mech can't enter Port Locke without approval from the port administrator."

Naveed's eyeridges pinched. "Then call the administrator. That mech serves a legitimate medical function necessary to Blair's safety and quality of life."

"I understand, sir-"

"Do you use a cybernetic prosthesis?" the drell interjected.

"No…"

"Then I don't think you do. Do you know how to repair a bionic limb? How to diagnose a brain-port malfunction? I don't, and I think it's safe to say you don't either. The mech stays with Miss Hodges, and I'll call the administrator myself if you insist on giving her any more trouble."

Naveed held his breath and hoped his threat had it's intended effect. After a span of silence, the turian voice grumbled an indignant reply, "Fine. We'll put in a call, but it might be awhile."

"Then forward me to my patient while we wait. This trip was already a sensitive situation for her without your interference."

"I'll put you on speaker. We had to remove her personal device after she used it to shock my partner."

"Shock your partner? I don't believe it. Blair has a discharge device built into her bionic arm; if one of your men got electrocuted it was because he grabbed her before she got a chance to use it," Naveed argued in irritation. "Tell me, Officer Ferran, do you make it a habit to accost all female travelers or just the young, handicapped ones?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"Maybe, maybe not. I wasn't there so I can't be certain, but I am certain of this: Blair isn't a threat to you, your men or anyone else on Noveria. Return her prosthesis to her. It's part of her body now and you have no sovereignty over it."

"But she-"

"Is suffering from what is likely a defective cybernetic build. It's why I put her on a shuttle to Port Locke in the first place; she's going to see a specialist for treatment."

There was more silence followed by what sounded like a muffled curse. The drell thought he heard Blair's voice as well, and when the turian came back on the line his voice had evened out a bit. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding, doctor. We'll get your patient situated while we wait for confirmation from the administrator."

"Appreciated, but I am not the one you should be apologizing to."

The turian didn't bother to reply before giving Naveed his transfer. As soon as the new connection was established, Blair's bored voice greeted him sarcastically.

"Are you tired of me yet?" she asked with an empty laugh.

"Tired of you?" he repeated. "Why would I be?"

"Because I'm so much trouble…"

"You're not trouble, Blair. Overzealous guards on industrial worlds are trouble. Are you alright?"

"No - they took Una. They aren't going to wipe her are they? I need her…"

"They're calling Port Locke for approval as we speak, but won't worry. You present a special case and I'm certain she will be returned to you soon."

The woman sighed before managing a weak response. "Okay."

Naveed paused and considered the situation before speaking again. "Blair, why didn't you tell me that Una is an AI?"

"I don't know. I didn't think it mattered."

"Are you telling me the truth?" A long silence told him she wasn't. He cleared his throat and continued in a quiet tone. "I'm not angry with you, Blair, and if you don't want to talk about it right now I can certainly understand, but the only time a patient hides something from me is when it's something they feel strongly about - something that causes them pain."

"Una doesn't cause me pain," Blair replied at last, "people do. When they first learn that I need a mech to help take care of myself they think it's sad, but when they find out I made her smart then they just think it's pathetic. They laugh and think there must be something wrong with me because I prefer Una's company to theirs. They say things like 'grow up' and 'get a life' as if Una were a toy and not a highly-involved project spanning more than seven years. And you know what makes me most angry? That these same people who jeer at Una like they've got her figured out don't have the first clue how she works."

The woman took a deep breath and let it out in a long, shuddering sigh. "They don't know what they're talking about."

Naveed filtered her words in stunned silence. Pieces of his patient's psychological profile began to shift in his head as he fought to find something to say.

_ "They don't know what they're talking about." _

He understood the underlying meaning his patient's words and responded in kind.

"You're right, Blair. They don't."


	8. Over

**Friction - Chapter Eight**

Naveed waited, courteous but uncomfortable, for the crowd to clear out of the Matriarch's chamber after the funeral service. He stood some distance from her gilded door, silently questioning the propriety of his presence amongst the asari mourners. Their reflected blue forms moved across the polished floor like water, while he, the one bright spot in the room, stood as an island in a sea of sorrow. Few times in his life had he felt as alien as he did then, scrutinized as he was by each of the attending women. He could only bow his head in response to their questioning glances, painfully aware of how little comfort the action offered.

For the most part, the asari were strangers to him, all friends and extended family that Kilandra had grown up with, but the Matriarch herself was another story. Ever since their introduction three years prior, the two shared a comfortable rapport - a certain understanding he lacked the words to properly identify.

Every time they spoke the woman's wisdom astounded him; her patience knew no limits and her intuitive mind could put his thoughts to words better than he could. She often provided sanctuary for him during his and Kilandra's rougher moments, offering a patient ear, kind words and - during their physical meetings - the hot jasmine tea she loved. Naveed hoped the only tea today would be poured in memory of Kilandra's sister Lyla, but somehow he knew Ohari would see right through him the moment he passed through her doorway.

He cleared his throat and inclined his head yet again at a pair of softly-weeping asari departing the chamber. They returned the gesture and exited the hall, leaving him alone in the ornate foyer. He shifted the bouquet of lilies he carried into the crook of his arm and adjusted his jacket with his free hand. A frown creased his features when he realized his smooth palm was slick with sweat.

"Naveed?" a warm voiced called.

The drell composed himself and turned to find a frail-looking asari approaching him. Her aging face spread into a smile and her long-fingered hands reached out for his. Naveed passed his gift of flowers to the elder asari's attendant before bowing deeply and letting her take his hands. Ohari's fading blue eyes inspected his scaled skin as she rubbed the soft center of his palm with her thumbs. She put pressure on the pads of his hands and between the joints of his fingers, searching for some sign of vital energy that only ancient souls could see.

"Good health," the Matriarch said at last, nodding to herself in approval, "Tense though."

She released his hands and looked up at him with a cleansing sigh of pride and relief. "I thought you might not come."

Naveed put his hands to the sides of his face, lifting them over his eyes, forehead, and down the back of his finned head in a gesture common to the priesthood of Arashu. It was a sign of respect, of accepting and enveloping oneself in the spiritual presence of another.

"I was uncertain you would want to see me during this time," he explained quietly, "It has been a long wait for word of Lyla."

"What happened on the Citadel was a tragedy," Ohari agreed with wrinkled brow, "but I am grateful for the closure. We can continue our lives in peace now."

The pair stood in sympathetic silence, eying each other until the venerable asari finally spread her arms to embrace him. "Come here, you beautiful boy."

Naveed smiled and let the woman wrap him in a tight hug, enjoying the way his chin rested perfectly on the top her head. Ohari was small but spirited, and he loved her as he did his own mother. He let the asari rest her cheek on his chest, where she could hear his heartbeat and draw from him the strength that her failing body needed.

"You have ever been a kind soul, Naveed," she said when she drew away at last, "It is a great comfort to me to have you here; I would never want you to feel unwelcome in my home."

Ohari waved away her attendant and gestured toward her room. "Come and let us talk. I sense we have much to discuss."

.oO-Oo.

"Ugh. Made it…" Blair muttered to herself as she rounded the corner leading into her travel cabin. She bent over one of the twin bench seats and let a struggling Una roll out of her arms before sitting stiffly near the twittering mech. As she leaned her head back to rest, she heard a rattling inside her backpack and sighed in response.

"I have to go take my pill, Una," the woman declared as she reluctantly took to her feet again, "You stay here and don't bother anyone, okay? Just look out the window or something. I'll be back in a minute."

The droid bleeped an affirmation and rolled to the far side of the seat where a thick window revealed the whirling white outside. A soft smile came to Blair's lips as she watched Una focus her ocular lens and peer, child-like, into the snow outside the shuttle. She knew it didn't matter to the AI that the view wasn't particularly pleasing - aesthetic appreciation was an organic concept - but it still bothered her that she wasn't able to offer the curious mech more interesting experiences. Una had been designed to learn, after all, and the restrictive reach of the law left Blair little room to teach.

The woman ran her hand across Una's chassis fondly then headed for the bathroom compartments at the back of the ship. After slowly working her way through the other passengers, she managed to slip her pack off her shoulders and slide into one of the tiny chambers. She locked the door and rummaged through her bag for her prescription, doing the best she could to mind the cramped quarters. The last thing she needed was to jut out her bionic arm and break yet another bathroom appliance, especially one that didn't belong to her…

Blair's hands went to the sides of her face in a sudden huff of anxiety.

"Oh get a grip, already!" she growled in annoyance, "You haven't gone through all that trouble with security just to back out now, and if you do, you'll never be able to see that doctor with a straight face again." She forced her hands to the sides of the sink and her eyes to her reflection. "It's not that far, and you've flown safely before. Just take the meds and get back to your seat before the engines start."

The logic of the pep-talk calmed her enough that she pushed her bangs behind her ears and took a deep breath through her nose the way the Naveed had taught her to. She turned on the faucet and splashed some water on her face with her good hand, letting it draw away the heat that prickled its way up her neck. The feel of the droplets running down her face tickled, like the drell's fingertips when he smoothed her hair before putting her to sleep. She found it oddly comforting, and as her breathing returned to normal, she managed to straighten up and shakily pull out her pill bottle.

She counted out two of the pale pink tablets and placed them in her mouth. Using her hand as a makeshift cup, she brought water to her lips and swallowed them down. Even after years of medicating this way, her body still fought the motion with a weak gag reflex. As she grimaced and concentrated on keeping the meds down, she felt the shuttle shudder to life beneath her feet. Her eyes widened and she zipped her bag hurriedly, eager to be back in the stability of her seat before motion sickness made her stomach roil even more.

She swung her pack onto her back and shook her hand free of excess water before cracking the door to exit. When it latched into place behind her, an icon at the front of the ship lit up.

"Attention passengers: Please be seated…"

"I'm going, I'm going," Blair complained as she wormed her way past a room housing a tired-looking salarian. She thought she heard him snicker at her comment, but with all the conversations going on around her she couldn't be sure. She sidled closer to her cabin, where the noise had reached an abnormal level. When she realized most of the commotion was coming from her room, her heart skipped a beat.

"Una!"

Blair dashed the remaining few feet to her doorway and took the corner so fast her bionic arm hit the opposite wall with a clank. She dismissed the brittle sound of breaking plastic to focus on the lean, bio-suited figure at the center of her room. It was a male quarian, standing with his head cocked to the side curiously at the screeching mech in his hands. He was so engrossed with his inspection of the droid that he didn't even look up until Una bleeped at her human in recognition.

"Hey! What are you doing with my mech?" Blair demanded hotly. She reached out and snatched Una away from the intruder in a manner that made him retreat a step. To her surprise, the voice that met her harsh manner was a light-hearted one.

"Admiring her is all," the quarian replied, holding up his three-fingered hands calmly, "It's not everyday I encounter an unsanctioned AI, and such a well-behaved one at that."

Blair straightened her defensive posture but continued to eye him warily.

"Forgive me," he continued with a quick bow of his head, "I've obviously overstepped my bounds. My name is Nym'Hadar vas Minoi and I work for Synthetic Insights - hence my interest in your companion. It appears we will be sharing this cabin on the way to Port Locke."

"Fine by me," the human said as she edged around him to retake her seat, "Just leave my droid alone. She's already been manhandled once today."

Nym took the seat opposite of Blair and gestured to Una. "I'm surprised you were allowed to board with it at all, but I'm glad you were; I'd be very interested in acquiring an AI like yours."

"She's not for sale."

The quarian laughed, causing his re-breather to pulse merrily. "Oh I don't want to buy her," he clarified, "I want to offer you a job."

"Oh yeah? I've heard that before," Blair replied. She pushed up the sleeve of her over-sized travel jacket and rolled down her protective sleeve. For added show, she brought up her bionic hand and split her index finger into two, miniscule sub-digits. A flash of static jumped between them. "You still want to hire me?"

Nym reached out for her prosthesis and she leaned away. " Excuse me? What'd I'd just say about touching?"

He laughed and bowed his head again. "Apologies. I've never seen a human with such extensive enhancement; your cybernetics must have cost a fortune."

Blair's frown deepened and her eyebrows pinched. "It wasn't exactly an 'enhancement'…"

Light glinted briefly behind the quarian's dark visor as his eyes shifted. He placed his roaming hands back in his lap and sat up in his seat. "I see," he mumbled awkwardly, "You were injured then; I suppose that makes more sense. Humans have the technology to correct defects in the womb do they not?"

The human's expression grew exasperated. "It's _not_ a 'defect!'"

Nym slapped his hands over his helm and sighed. When he dropped them back into his lap, a tiny blue light flickered behind the glass shielding his face. "I'm not making a very good show of myself am I? I'm afraid I don't get out of SI's labs much anymore, and unfortunately my time there makes up most of my experience outside the flotilla. I don't mean to insult you or invade upon your privacy, it's just that I rarely get to meet people on my 'level' so to speak." He paused cautiously. "Or is that also impolite?"

Blair's face relaxed as she considered. "You mean your intellectual level?"

The quarian gave a quick nod. "Yes."

"I suppose I can understand that," the woman conceded. "And I have to admit I'm rather short-tempered today. Normally I wouldn't be so snappy, but I'm a little agitated. I hate flying."

"Then you will be glad to know the way to Port Locke is a smooth ride," Nym told her. "My facility is actually located there."

Una bleeped and rolled out of Blair's arms to look out the window. "So what were you doing here in Hanshan?"

Though she couldn't see his face, Blair got the distinct feeling that the quarian was smiling. "Same thing I'm try to do right now: recruit staff. Synthetic Insights has just green-lighted a pet project of mine, but my division is lacking enough suitable technicians. I was hoping I might convince some of the ones employed in Hanshan to transfer over - Port Locke having more to offer and all - but I didn't get many takers."

The woman rolled the sleeve of her bionic arm back down and leaned forward as she warmed to her quarian seatmate's discussion. "What kind of project?"

.oO-Oo.

Safely enclosed in the Matriarch's chambers, Naveed felt his nerves begin to unwind. He wasn't sure where to begin explaining his troubles, or how to, but Ohari seemed prepared to wait as long as needed. While his eyes danced over the white tiles of her room, she attended to him as she would an honored guest, going so far as to provide food and a pallet on the floor so he could sit in the customary drell fashion. Though he understood she meant to comfort, the attention only made him more reluctant; his woes seemed absurdly small in the face of the asari's own loss.

He looked up finally and found his host seated quietly behind a easel in the corner. The asari's lithe limbs shook as she pushed a brush across the rectangular canvas. Ever aware of others, Ohari spoke first.

"I want to thank you for your words at the service," she said gently, "Your ways are not ours, but somehow I feel Lyla would appreciate what you have done for her."

"It's nothing," Naveed demurred, "I would do it for any soul lost so senselessly."

The asari nodded to herself. "Many others are still suffering from the attack. A man of your skills would be in great demand on the Citadel now, Naveed. You could do much good there."

"Perhaps, but I imagine the recovery effort already has it's hands full with the physical impact of the attack. They need medical doctors to treat the wounded and engineers to rebuild the station; a single therapist like myself would simply get in the way."

Ohari chuckled and shook her head. She dabbed her brush in a spot of paint from her palette then made a yellow swatch on her forearm. "Hanar humility is not an excuse to disparage oneself, my dear. As a drell, you know all too well how important it is to heal on the inside as well as the outside. Do not belittle the ability to see past surface issues; it's a skill few people possess these days, and fewer still are those that put it to use caring for the needs of others."

Naveed swallowed at her words and fingered the edge of the pallet he sat upon. His gut twisted with guilt at the freckled face he found forming in his mind's eye, half-hidden behind mirrored glasses. As the image coalesced, it was not his face but Kilandra's that reflected off Blair's copper colored lenses.

He pinched his hand and jerked his head up abruptly, drawing the Matriarch's gaze away from her painting.

"Things are not well," he admitted hastily, "between Kilandra and I."

Ohari's face softened and she turned back to her work. "I know."

"You have spoken with her?"

"She spoke to _me_," the asari answered with a grin, "You know how Kilandra is when she's upset. Can't get a word in edge-wise."

"Do you believe her story?"

"The one about you having a sordid affair with a young woman you've only just met? Of course not. You're not that type of man, Naveed, and if my daughter can't see it then you are right to worry."

"I don't understand what is happening," Naveed mused sadly, "I can't seem to make her happy anymore. I used to think it was just a phase, that she was trying to cope with approaching the next stage of her life, but it has gone on for months now, and despite the lies I tell myself it's only getting worse. I don't…I don't _want_ things to end between us, but I can't live with the moodiness, the fighting - _the suspicion_. I can't do it. It makes me sick, down to my very core."

The drell's eyes rolled over memories while his mouth silently mimed the dialog of days gone by.

"I came home a few nights ago, the day you contacted Kilandra about Lyla's death, and she was waiting for me. We had a fight, and she threatened to harm herself."

Ohari's head swung around sharply and her thin lips opened, but Naveed held up his hand in a wordless request for silence. The asari watched him with sympathy in her eyes as he struggled with his emotions. The drell's fingers and eyeridges twitched subconsciously as he channeled his thoughts, reminding the asari of nothing so much as a wounded creature's death throes.

"Kilandra doesn't respect my work," he continued finally. "And after turning it against me in such a way, it's clear she doesn't respect me either. People who love each other don't tear one another down with that which is important to them."

His dark eyes lost their far away cast and he blinked to refocus on the matriarch.

"I want so much to be what Kilandra needs in her life; I've even considered children, but this - the way we are - it isn't healthy. I feel like a fraud for claiming to help people take control of their lives when my own is so obviously out of order. It's not fair to my patients for me to be so distracted, and it's not fair to Kilandra for me to make promises I can't keep, even when that's all she is willing to hear."

"It's not fair to you either, Naveed," Ohari said softly. She put her painting away and crossed the room to sit beside him, taking his hands in her own as she had in the foyer. "I've never seen you so unhappy, and if I'd known things had reached this point I would have contacted you sooner."

She rubbed his hands thoughtfully and sighed. "Sometimes young asari forget that the rest of the galaxy moves at a faster pace than their own, and while their companions in life mature, they remain untouched by the passage of time and its dictates. Kilandra has never been the most self-aware of my daughters, and as the youngest of my brood I let her get away with more than most. It is important that you understand this, Naveed, and that you don't allow the two of you drifting apart to make you question yourself. Asari relationships often fade this way, as the young woman grows bored and finds herself unable to settle."

The Matriarch lifted a hand to one of the ruffled ridges along Naveed's cheekbone. "You need to do what is best for you now, because if you wait, hoping Kilandra's erratic behavior will change, you may be waiting for the rest of your life."


	9. Enemies

**Author's Note:** Hi guys! We're getting into the thick of things now, as you will see. Thank you all for reading and double thank you to those of you who take the time to leave reviews and letting me know you're here. Once again, waiting4morning lent her skills to make this a nice clean read. Enjoy and have a great weekend!

**Friction - Chapter Nine**

"So? What do you think?" Nym asked as he watched Blair's face contort into a frown.

The human drummed her false fingers against her seat as she considered what the quarian had shared with her over the course of their trip. Truth be told, she'd only been half-aware of his words, as her attention kept drifting to the sound of the shuttle's engine. As encouraging as the gentle thrum had been thus far, she knew it only took a moment for something to go critically wrong that could send them careening into Noveria's snow-covered crust below.

The quarian tilted his head at her silence. "Blair?"

Una chirped in concern and extended an arm to give her human keeper a pinch. The woman jumped at the contact and her eyes refocused. She rubbed the sore spot left by the mech's plier-tipped limb as her brain processed the complications of Nym's pet project.

"I don't think I understand what exactly you hope to gain from this," she said at last. "Or why Synthetic Insights would fund such an endeavor. There's no profit in it."

"You don't see the value of discovering how AIs form their identities?"

"I don't see its value in this context," Blair clarified, "Your company builds war machines and defense intelligence - AIs with strict parameters and behavioral blocks. They don't 'form' an identity so much as have it dictated to them. It doesn't make sense for you to study artificial evolution when you bypass it in the first place."

Nym's head lowered slightly and his hands clasped in front of him. The shuttle's PA rang out a warning of impending descent, but this time Blair barely noticed it. A deep line formed along the lower half of her brow.

"You're _not_ thinking of 'raising' a defense intelligence are you?"

"Well, if an AI could interface directly with a starship's components it would greatly…" Nym trailed off slowly as Blair's hard gaze withered his enthusiasm. He was silent for a moment, then pointed at Una. "_You've_ raised an unlicensed mech without behavior protocols."

"Una doesn't have a Thanix cannon," the woman exasperated.

"Even if she did, do you honestly think she would use it on organics indiscriminately?"

"That's a loaded question-"

"How so?"

"Nothing intelligent does anything 'indiscriminately'. The very ability to make judgments and calculations is part of how we _define_ intelligence. A quarian would know that…"

The eerie blue light behind the quarian's mask lit up again, and he nodded in a manner Blair took for approval.

"Therein lies in the purpose of my study. I want to know _why_ your mech is pleased to remain as it is. I want to know if - given a blank slate - an artificial intellect can conceive its own morality and code of conduct. I want to know how much of this is influenced by the AI's environment and who or what it interacts with. Would two independent, non-networked AIs with identical software develop differently, even when exposed to the same atmosphere? If so, to what degree?"

"So this is a study on nurture versus nature?" Blair asked skeptically.

"Something like that, yes," Nym said with another wave in Una's direction, "Your mech is simple in comparison to those generally produced by Synthetic Insights this is true, but similar models would be invaluable to me. That you designed her with so little restriction and no real notion of the final outcome means similar constructs would be mentally malleable, and not likely to develop along a creator's bias - something I seem unable to achieve in my own works, unfortunately."

"And something that could taint your results…"

"Precisely."

Blair's eyebrows pinched and she looked to her mech with reservation. The little droid had lost interest in the conversation going on around her and was busy re-threading a loose seam in the shuttle's leather seat. Mixed feelings warred with hard logic as Blair imagined Una's modest reasoning being held responsible for Alliance cruisers and the personnel inside. Her behavior in the spaceport that morning left no doubt about her willingness to defend herself, and it perfectly highlighted her limited ability to determine what was - and wasn't - a legitimate threat.

Video feeds of the geth attack on the Citadel came to the forefront of Blair's mind, along with reports that the maneuvering of an organic had been behind the incursion. How anyone - even a rogue Spectre - could manage to negotiate with such advanced artificial life forms was beyond her. The entire quarian race had nearly been destroyed after losing control over their creations, and yet one man had somehow convinced them to come around to his way of thinking, however insane his intentions.

Somehow _forced_ them to come around…

The woman swallowed and faced Nym, doing her best to mask the suspicion she felt like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. "I said I don't see the profit in this, and I still don't. Studying how AIs evolve for the sake of science is all well and good, but it doesn't serve Synthetic Insights."

"It will if it means we can find a way to make AIs willing to work for us of their own accord," Nym pointed out. "Take you and your…Una, for example. You have formed something of a symbiotic relationship; you need her to diagnose and do repair work on your prosthesis, and she needs security, access to a power source, and someone to provide her with new hardware should one of her components malfunction."

"Now, she could get it in her system to take these things by force, but that would mean exposing herself to opposition, and as you have pointed out, your mech has no means of defense. She has no networked allies to rely upon, as the geth do. She has _you_, and over the course of her existence, she has learned to trust you."

"So that's what you want? To bring up mechs with largely empty databases and control what they're exposed to in order to get them to 'trust' us?" Blair demanded. "And what happens when you send them out in the world and they realize there's more to it than they've been shown in your labs? You don't think that's going to make them mad?"

"Mechs don't have emotions, Miss Hodges," the quarian countered.

Blair's bionic arm snapped out in a severing motion. "Oh cut the crap," she exclaimed irritably, "We're way beyond semantics. You want to _condition_ AIs, and it's wrong. Una may not feel the way I do, she may not understand love or hate or even physical pain, but she understands deception. She knows what it is to lie and cheat and be a self-serving prick in neoprene."

Una had picked up on the rising tone of the cabin's occupants and abandoned her idle stitching to swivel her ocular lens wildly between them. A questioning bleep escaped her as Blair stood and snatched her up in a tight hug. The human lifted her bag and swung it onto her shoulder with effort before making her way to the narrow door connecting the rest of the shuttle. Upon exiting, she turned back to lean against the doorframe and give the offending quarian one last piece of her mind.

"How's _that_ for politically correct, quarian? Maybe you're willing to trade your conscience for a few credits, but I'm not." She lifted her prosthesis and formed its nimble digits into a rude gesture. "You can take your job and _shove it_."

.oO-Oo.

When the shuttle landed in Port Locke, Blair was one of the first passengers to get off. Citing her handicap, she'd managed to convince the on-board attendants to give her a seat at the front of the ship. She didn't normally indulge in treating her condition like a badge of entitlement, but between the quarian, the cold and her own frayed nerves, she wanted free of the cramped quarters as soon as possible.

"Do you need help with that?" a porter asked her as she stepped off the causeway connecting the docked ship to the passenger platform. Her racing mind didn't realize what he meant until he gestured to Una's metal bulk wedged under her bionic arm.

"No!" she snapped, contorting her torso so the mech was out of reach.

The man's eyes widened and he stepped back, hands up in submissive gesture. "Oookay then," he quipped in a miffed tone, "A nice day to you too, lady."

Blair ignored the barb and followed the rest of the passengers down a corridor leading to Port Locke's entry point. To her relief, there was no second security gate to suffer through, just one of Noveria's automated weapons scanners and a guest services booth. A small host of ERCS guards were present, but judging by their placement, they were there for the protection of the port employees, not the interrogation of arriving persons. Still, her hectic morning made her hold her breath as she passed by the turians flanking the airlock into the commons. One of them made eye contact with her briefly, but as she suspected, his gaze roamed away wordlessly.

As she made her way to the stations entry point, she watched the airlock open and close for the travelers ahead of her. Snatches of sound and bright lights crept through the swinging doors, churning up unexpected excitement in the woman. Though Nym's words on the shuttle had suggested Port Locke was more developed than Hanshan, she couldn't help but double take at the view that greeted her upon exiting the traverse and entering the city proper.

Blair's first reaction was to laugh. Port Hanshan was Noveria's capital; that another station was allowed to so greatly outshine it seemed laughable. She wondered for a moment who headed the port, but then decided it didn't matter. Not much of what NDC did made sense to her; she doubted the reasoning behind Port Locke's glamour would either.

"Well," she said to Una with some renewed energy, "Looks like we might get to have some fun after all."

The mech made a high-pitched squeal and bubbled with questions. "I bet we can find some more medi-gel ampoules for you here, too," Blair suggested, "Then we can replace the ones you used up after my fall, yeah?"

Una began spinning her wheels in a need to be free, and her keeper put her down in understanding. When the mech turned to face Blair, she screeched in agitation and wheeled up to the woman's feet.

"Una? What's the-"

"I wouldn't let your mech roam free in Port Locke if I were you," an accented voice interjected from somewhere behind the woman. "Something could happen to her…"

"Is that a threat?" Blair ground through clenched teeth as she turned to meet the quarian's tinted faceplate.

"Of course not," Nym replied with a careless gesture. "Merely a friendly piece of advice. If we were on the Citadel, she would have been destroyed by port security and you would have been arrested."

"It's a good thing we're not on the Citadel then, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. A very good thing," he answered with an unnerving nod of agreement, "A superior mind such as yours should be rewarded, not punished. To throw you into prison would be to waste so much potential."

The quarian clasped his hands behind his back and took a few steps closer to the woman. "Your…abrupt departure on the shuttle left me unable to finish making my offer, Miss Hodges."

"Screw your offer, quarian. I can see now why no one willing to work with you - you're a lunatic. One geth holocaust not enough for you people?"

To Blair's surprise, the quarian laughed. His re-breather lit up like lightning and he shook his head. "A geth holocaust should be the least of your worries."

He slipped his narrow hands into a pouch at his waist and withdrew a shiny piece of plastic. Blair's face contorted in fury as he held it up alongside his helmet. It was her NDC badge. "I took the liberty of looking you up after you left," Nym explained as he waved her ID through the air thoughtfully, "Your bionic arm really _did_ cost a fortune didn't it? That must be a truly crushing debt to someone of your salary. You couldn't even cover the cost of your ticket to come here today!"

"That's none of your business!" Blair snapped.

"I'm prepared to _make_ it my business. In fact, as a show of good faith, you'll find your rent and utilities for the month have been covered. Synthetic Insights is prepared to very kind with you should you reconsider our proposal, and we want to give you time to think it over, unburdened by such…trivial money matters."

"Go to hell."

"Quarians don't have a hell," Nym told her jovially as he held out her card, "but we do have a most resplendent heaven." Blair frowned and snatched back her ID. "I see no reason that we should be enemies, Blair, but I have done what I can to convince you, and as your people say, the ball is in your court."

The diminutive alien gave a lingering glance to Una before turning to disappear into the crowd. A thousand epithets threatened to leap from Blair's tongue, but a chime from her omni-tool silenced her. She pushed up her sleeve and read the terse message there with something approaching fear.

_I'll be in touch… _

.oO-Oo.

Even Kilandra's brooding presence at her heels couldn't quash the sense of accomplishment in Ohari as she moved about the well-lit gallery. A decade's worth of work was almost complete, and it made her hold her head high as she strode toward the room's last remaining alcove. She swore she felt the touch of the Goddess upon her, praising her for her life's last legacy - a legacy she had sworn to fulfill while she still had sight enough left to do so.

"That doesn't belong here, Mother," Kilandra said coldly as Ohari lifted her painting onto the barren wall.

The elder asari ignored her and focused on centering the image. A beam of sunlight filtered through one of the chamber's open windows, bathing the portrait's bright face in an even warmer glow. Ohari smiled at the effect and stepped back to better observe her handiwork. A youthful giddiness flushed her sapphire cheeks.

"It is done," she said breathlessly.

"You say that like you're on your deathbed," Kilandra scoffed.

Ohari fixed her irreverent daughter with a stare that made the young woman look away. She held the heavy gaze for several moments before sighing peacefully and turning her eyes back to her art.

"It's unfortunate," the Matriarch mumbled with a wistful smile as she traced the contours of Naveed's face, "I could have had such beautiful grandchildren…"

"I'm too young for children."

Ohari gave a good-natured snort. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

Kilandra rolled her eyes at the criticism and crossed her arms. She glanced briefly at the black shroud hanging over her dead sister's painting further along the wall and swallowed the rising lump in her throat.

"Will you at least put him further away from Lyla?" she asked.

"No. This spot is perfect for him," Ohari said with a wide grin, "Basking in the light like a lizard."

"And what's so special about my location?"

The Matriarch glanced in the direction of her daughter's portrait and waved. "You got the view of the pond with the ill-tempered sunfish." She leaned closer to Kilandra and whispered. "_They_ haven't spawned for me either."

"Very funny, Mother," the young asari replied through a clenched jaw. Her eyes wandered idly back to Ohari's painting, and hardened as they glared into the drell's dark eyes. "I can't believe you can take his side."

Ohari laughed. "You think it's that simple, do you? A matter of who's right and who's wrong? Oh my daughter, you have so much still to learn."

"He spends more time with those patients of his than he does with me, and now he's cavorting with one of them."

"You knew full well Naveed's level of dedication when you met him," the elder pointed out, "It's in his nature; he can't help it and I see no reason he should. He does a job few people care to anymore, and I couldn't think of a kinder soul better suited to it."

Kilandra unclasped her hands and threw them wide in exasperation. "And what of that girl? Does his 'job' entail entertaining strangers in our home?"

"Perhaps not, but I doubt it entails giving parting prayers over the deceased who don't belong to him either."

Naveed's calm, alien words at Lyla's funeral echoed in the back of Kilandra's mind. He made the ritual gestures over the asari's body with such care, and anointed her brow with a gentleness normally reserved for children. Somehow the whole affair felt freeing in an otherwise dark and solemn day, and she knew her mother had been grateful for his effort.

"It's more than a profession to him, Kilandra," Ohari continued as she stroked the edge of the drell's painting affectionately, "It's a calling, and to some degree, it's merely the drell way." The asari took her hand back and clasped it against her chest. "Have I ever told you that Naveed is not the first drell I've met?"

The other's arched eyebrows perked with interest. "No…"

"There are so few of them left you know; even someone with years like mine would be unlikely to encounter more than a handful - short of visiting Kahje, of course." Ohari's eyes blurred as her mind traveled into centuries past. "I still remember when word of this new species came from the hanar homeworld. I was very young at the time, of course, younger than you are even, but there was so much excitement that it's easy to recall."

"Who were these wide-eyed beings with their jewel-toned skin? Would they be a blessing to us, or a curse? What trouble was behind the sadness in their intricate faces? Could their war-torn world be saved? There were so many questions then, and time has answered them as it usually does. They are the hands of the hanar, the retainers of dying traditions, and they are content to remain in this role alongside their saviors."

"This has nothing to do with Naveed," Kilandra interrupted irritably.

"Hmph. It most certainly does," the Matriarch chided. "drell will bind themselves to a hanar household for generations; they do not trade allegiance lightly, and they take great stock in religious doctrine so old it rivals that of our own people. Naveed would never transgress against you. He can't, even when you cause him so much pain. The rules he and his people live by will not stand for it."

"When _I _cause him pain? What 'pain'? I cook his meals, buy his clothes-"

"And carelessly exercise the loss of his childhood friend against him," Ohari cut her off. The two women stood silently for a time, and somewhere outside a cloud obscured the room's radiant light. "How could you stoop so low as to threaten him with self-harm? Knowing what you know of his history? Are you really the daughter I raised? Do you have any idea what it must be like for him, to carry every moment of his life with him every day, burdened by all the exacting details?"

"I didn't mean it! You'd just told me about Lyla and I-"

"Cared more about your own needs than you did his, as you have always done ever since you were _this_ high." Ohari made a chopping motion through the air with her frail fingers. "You knew there was no better way to cut him, and you did it anyway. He lost his friend _and _his self-confidence that day, and you threw salt in the wound just to make him squirm."

"You weren't there, you can't possibly know what happened!" Kilandra argued in a voice bordering on hysterical.

"I'm your mother, girl, and I can tell by your reaction that I've a pretty good idea. Perhaps Naveed can overlook your ways, but I will not. Not anymore." Ohari strode the gallery exit and paused briefly in the doorway. "Lyla is dead and I will soon follow her. It is high time you put your selfishness away and prepare to take up our family's mantle - without that beautiful man beside you. You've tormented him enough already."

The Matriarch's thin form disappeared through the airlock with a finality Kilandra had rarely felt before. All her insults and arguments died on her lips as the gallery fell dim and silent again. Overwhelming emptiness crept up around the asari, putting pressure on her until her hands went to her head and she screamed. Nebulous blue light gathered about her form like a halo, and with a cry of rage she launched it at the image on the wall behind her, splintering it to pieces.

* * *

**neoprene **- a synthetic rubber with a number of uses including the creation of wet suits, in this context Blair is referring to Nym's quarian biosuit


End file.
